Who Am I?
by Addi319
Summary: "Seeing her all fancy makes me grumpy. 'Whatcha dressed up for, Mom, Prince Charming's ball' I snap. She raises her eyebrows at me. What is up with these people's eyebrows?" Follow Spoiled Brat Tris as she journeys through the biggest change in her life. The typical gang has to shape her up - but what is Four's relationship going to be with her? BE BRAVE!
1. Chapter 1

"Yeah – Mom? _Not_ happening," I say, groaning.

"Beatrice Prior, you be quiet this instant! You are going to Roth High whether you like it or not!" Mom says, applying lipstick to her already perfect lips and enhancing her straight, pearly-white teeth.

I scoff. "Never. You can't make me," I taunt.

"Beatrice, stop acting like a five year-old. You're sixteen! Shape up and act like it!"

I leave my mom's bathroom and stomp to my room. Fine, you might say I'm one of those sassy teens. Yeah, whatever. _I don't care_.

I slam the door to my room and flop onto my bed, sighing. I'm kinda in the mood for some music, so I turn on my MP3 player and curse at it for taking so long to load. Finally, I turn on "Bad Blood" by Taylor Swift and relish in the feeling of the music pounding in my ears.

 _'_ _Cuz baby now we've got bad blood_

 _You know it used to be mad love_

 _So take a look what you've done_

 _'_ _Cuz baby now we've got bad blood!_

I am, like, obsessed with Taylor Swift, by the way.

See, Mom and Dad made us move all the way from happy, peaceful, tranquil, cool, and pleasant Maine all the way to bustling, dirty, loud, painful Chicago. I mean, what kind of parents _do_ that? Anyway, they made me apply for Roth High School. I hate it. Big surprise. All of my past schools have been a flop. I've moved ten times in fifteen years. We got to stay in Maine for six months, and I think it was the best six months of my life. I got a fab new bestie, Susan Black, who's like, the most kind, selfless, but also compatible person ever. I promised to text her fifteen times a day when I left, so I decide to do so now.

I unlock my phone with my passcode and go to my texts. Susan texted me an hour ago.

 _Hi tris, r u liking Chicago?_

I roll my eyes. _ya right, su_ I text back. Susan is the only one who calls me Tris, by the way. It's a sweet nickname, _so_ much better than _Beatrice_ (yech! My parents have _problems_ ), and I'm gonna go by it at Roth High – if I decide to go.

Almost immediately, Susan texts back _wish u were here_ _L_

 _Me 2_ , I respond.

Susan: _chicago's nice though right?_

Tris (me): _yeah right. i hate this place_

Susan: _Rob's taking me to an interview. gtg_

Of course, Robert's taking her to an interview. Robert is her older brother and he's obsessed with finding her a new job.

Tris: _what interview_?

Susan: _babysitter_

Tris: _seriously, you need a professional interview for that?_

Susan: _I dunno. gtg, talk to u soon, k?_

Tris: _see ya, su_

I check my Twitter page. Nothing. Facebook? Zip. Snapchat and Instagram, I only give a brief glance to. I barely keep my accounts on there.

Roth High starts tomorrow. I don't know what I'm gonna do. Should I stick the first day out, then drop out? Or should I refuse to go even the first day?

One thing's for certain. I am _never_ going.

 **Tell me what you think. Should I continue? This is a little different than the overused Divergent High plot, Tris is spoiled and she needs to get in shape ...**

 **Be brave.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I published the story a few minutes ago, now I'm updating a second chapter. A good start, huh? Thank you to my first reviewer, follower, and favoriter, . . (I think that's his/her name). I really appreciate it. Glad you like the story! Let me know your thoughts on this chapter. :)**

I wake up to the incredible annoying sound of my alarm clock. I have made my decision. I will stick out the first day and see how it goes. Then I'll drop out. I can't wait to see the look on Mom's face!

I tumble out of bed and leave the blankets all messy on the floor. What the hell, I don't care. I'll put 'em back on my bed later.

I go into my private (the only thing I'm thankful for from my parents) bathroom, with its huge shower _and_ a Jacuzzi. There's a huge sink and a ginormous mirror behind it, concealing a shelf behind the mirror. I splash my face with cold water, then strip and shower quickly. When I'm done, I go out and wrap a warm, fluffy white bathrobe around myself and comb out my hair. I do my personal hairstyle – a bunch of hair from my right side, wrapped around my head to my left, and pinned with a clip. I rinse my teeth with mouthwash and rub deodorant and moisturizer on. Then I go to my closet to look for my outfit.

I'm stuck on what to wear. I don't usually have this problem, because my typical outfit is sweatpants and a sweatshirt (no one really cares in Maine, because it's cold there). But this is different. I at least want to make a good impression before I show the world who Tris Prior _really_ is.

Finally, I decide on a cute pink outfit that goes well with my brown hair. It's a silky shirt that's uber-comfy and stylish, too, as it has bicep-length sleeves, and it's cut so the tip of my slim stomach can be seen and a pretty criss-cross pattern across the breasts. I also wear those cute little pink girl shorts that are only a few inches long on my legs. I put a pretty green cardigan with a pink palm tree on the breast on, and put on my kinda cool-looking cowboy boots with an inch and a half heel.

Then I go into the bathroom and apply perfume, and then my makeup. I typically use sparkly pink lip gloss, which is, like, the best ever. Then, I apply some eye shadow and mascara.

Finally, I'm done, and I check my iPhone. 7:30.

Dammit. I gotta be at school by 8:15. Classes start at 8:30.

I go downstairs, stepping lightly. Obviously, I can be late if I want to. It's not like it matters.

Caleb, my older brother, is reading a book. Again. Like always. Suddenly sick of him, I march over to him, grab his book, and chuck it behind me. He looks up at me blearily, peering over his glasses like those old snotty teachers.

"Whatcha doin', Bea?" he asks groggily, and I smack him on the cheek. That wakes him up.

"What, what?" he asks, bewildered, but alert. "Whadd'ya do _that_ for?"

"Get over there and make me a piece of toast," I order. "And a big slice, nice and buttery."

He raises his eyebrows, but I raise mine, and he gets up to do what I asked. Caleb is a total doormat.

Mom comes in, in a pretty silk blue blouse and fancy black pants. She wears a gold chain belt and a gold necklace, along with gold earrings and a lot of lipstick, mascara, eye shadow, eye liner, and blush.

Seeing her all fancy makes me grumpy. "Whatcha dressed up for, Mom, Prince Charming's ball?" I snap. She raises her eyebrows at me. What is up with these people's eyebrows?

"Watch your tone, Beatrice," she warns, and that only makes me grumpier.

"Watch _yours_!" I retort.

"Careful," she warns, but Mom will never punish me. She's a pushover.

"Suck it up," I snarl, enjoying the expression on her face.

"Beatrice, stop it right now."

I make my sassy face at her. "Leave me alone. You're making me go to Roth? Fine. I will. But I am _never_ gonna be nice to you again."

I know, it's a feeble threat, but it has its effect. Mom's face turns white, and she asks weakly, "Caleb, may I have a cup of coffee, please?"

Mom is a very gentle person, and that's why I love taking advantage of her. She's never done anything to me in my life. Dad's the administrator of punishments around here, and since he's off at work in Vermont or something, I can do whatever I like. It's not like anyone will report me.

Caleb finishes with my toast, and I snatch it from him without saying thank you. Why does he need a thank you? He's doing it for the greater good.

I give a quick glance to the whole room, then get my cross-body gold-colored purse with the purple tassels hanging off it. I slip my phone, earbuds, driver's license, and MP3 player in it, along with twenty bucks that I snatched from Mom's room a while ago. I put the purse on and raise my eyebrows as a goodbye to my worthless family.

Then I head to Roth High.

 **This is a bit** **longer** **than the other chapter. My average chapter is about 1,500 words. I haven't quite reached that goal yet, but I'm working on it.**

 **Be brave.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I am pumping chapter after chapter out. Lucky you!**

I arrive at the campus a few minutes later, having taken a taxi. It's a big campus, with one huge building, made with red-brick, giving it an old-style look. There is a _lot_ of nature. There are several rolling green hills and a medium-sized blue lake. It looks like a scene out of a movie. Everything is perfect and neat.

Students are hugging each other everywhere, probably because they are excited to see each other again. Everyone's wearing the latest style in fashion, and I see girls wearing outfits similar to mine and boys with their casual "I'm-so-much-cooler-than-you-but-since-you're-cute-I'll-put-up-with-you" act. And then, of course, there are the awkward kids standing on the outskirts, probably either victims of bullying, nerds, or new kids.

I stand there for a moment, taking it all in, when a girl leaps in front of me to hug a boy.

"Oh, Uriah!" she cries, and I hear the boy saying something like, "Chill, Marlene!"

I scoff and move on, striding past the couples and shouters and entering the quaint building.

Once inside the double-doors, I am immediately assaulted by the smell of lavender and vanilla. I take a little whiff, then head on.

The walls are painted a pale, creamy color, bare but kind of homey. There's also black-cushioned couches lined up against the walls, and nerds, probably Caleb's type, I'm guessing, are sitting on them with their ugly little noses in those books. I'm walking down a long hallway, and I can still scent the lavender-and-vanilla. I'm guessing it's what the school smells like. Every school smells like something, I'm thinking this is it.

At the end of the hall, I see an office. It is brown-and-black marble at the bottom, and glass all the way up. A person, probably a secretary, is typing on a desktop behind the glass. There are papers scattered everywhere and I can see, behind the door behind the secretary, there's another black door, and when I come closer, I realize it says, _Principal Jeanine Matthews_.

To the right is one door, marked _Staff Bathrooms_ and to the left, a door that states, _Stairway to Second Floor_.

I knock on the glass, putting my sassy-girl face on.

The secretary looks up. She has a pin on her breast. It says, _Tori Wu_. She has black hair, a simple cream-colored dress that matches the walls, and a black skirt.

"Are you a new student?" she asks, sliding a part of the glass sideways, so we can speak easily.

"Yeah. I'm Tris Prior," I answer loftily. I have zero tolerance for these no-good secretaries.

She jots something down on a piece of paper. "Thank you, Tris. Here is your schedule. There are maps on the walls bordering the stairways, so you can find your way around. You look like the kind of girl who wants to do things by yourself, so I'll let you discover where everything else is. Cafeteria is second floor, though. I hope you enjoy your learnings at Roth High."

I scoff, and she just smiles. I'm shocked.

"Tris, might I remind you that if you drop out, there are no refunds?" she asks quietly, and my jaw drops.

 _What the hell_? How'd she read my mind?

Then I decide to reply to Tori snobbily, like any proper teenage girl should.

"I don't care about _refunds_ ," I say, waving a hand airily.

"I think you do, Tris. If your parents waste this money they spent on you – might I say, it is a _whole lot_ of money – there will be no more luxuries. No vacations. No more fancy pedicures or manicures. All because you decided you were too good for this school."

I gape further at her. How _dare_ she have the nerve to talk to me like that? I snatch my schedule and turn away smartly, walking away.

"Just keep that in mind, Tris," Tori calls.

I unfold my schedule and plop down on a couch to read it. It says:

 _Homeroom: Hana Pedrad, Room 301_

 _First Period: Math, Room 207_

 _Second Period: History, Room 219_

 _Third Period: Language Arts, Room 310_

 _Fourth Period: Gym, Gymnasium_

 _Lunch_

 _Fifth Period: Life Skills, Gymnasium_

 _Sixth Period: Creative Writing, Room 213_

 _Seventh Period: Assembly, Gymnasium_

Is that even how a schedule is usually written? And what's up with the gymnasium business? How am I supposed to know where that is?

Room 301 is my homeroom. So, third floor. Yay, great. I get to climb _three floors_ every friggin' _day_.

Wait. _What_? Did I just … no. Is myself admitting that … that I'm going to continue here?

No. No. No. I push the thought out of my brain and open the stairway door. It is very narrow, probably only two people side by side at once. There are fairly many stairs. _Crap_.

Whatever. I'll make sure there's an elevator at some point, but now I just gotta climb the stupid stairs _twice_.

I go up, then open the door at the top. I am met with the same, cream-colored walls, but instead of sofas, there are lockers. I progress through the hallway, pushing through crowds of people and noting classrooms on the sides. Then, finally, I get to the end of the hallway and, again, on the right it says _Staff Bathrooms_ and on the left it says _Stairway to Third Floor_.

I open that door and proceed up, my legs aching. Finally, I get to the top, open the door, and find myself on the third floor.

Same colors, again. My legs are still hurting from walking so much (I'm not really used to it), but luckily, since my homeroom is 301, it's right next to me.

I enter the classroom, head held high, and my I-am-better-than-you look on.

 **What's going to happen? Review your thoughts. I am very excited as to what all of you think of this new story idea!**

 **Be brave.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi everyone! I made a mistake in ... I think it was Chapter 2, because I said 1,500 words. That's a LOT. So it's going to be around 800-1,000. I'm really sorry, but it will be fast updates (hopefully at least twice or three times a week), so it's OK, right?**

 **I'm going to stop rambling, because you guys are going to be** ** _SOOOO_** **pissed at me when you see what happens in this chapter.**

The classroom is bustling with cheerful noise. A dark-skinned girl is brushing long, shaggy hair out of a young man's eyes as he reads a book, laughing at him. The couple I saw earlier – I think it was Marlene and Uriah – are goofing around at the teacher's desk, and there's this guy with really tanned skin and long brown hair. I can't see his eyes, 'cuz he's doodling on a piece of paper. Casually, I move towards him, and see that he is drawing a 3D picture of a man with huge muscles and a naked torso, only wearing some boxing shorts.

 _What_?

A woman enters the classroom. She has loose gray hair. Strands of it blow in her face, and her eyes are a pretty blue.

A pretty blue? What has gotten into me? I'm not retaining my usual attitude. This is bad. Like really bad. I _never_ say anyone else is pretty.

As soon as the woman enters the room in a floor-length blue dress, the whole room shuts up.

"Hello. My name is Hana Pedrad. I am the mother of Uriah Pedrad" – she gestures to the boy who's apparently a boyfriend of the girl Marlene – "and Ezekiel Pedrad, who's in a different homeroom, because you _never_ put those two in the same room together."

Laughter rumbles around the class, but I don't take part in it – I just find an empty seat and sit in it, far from everyone else.

"Generally, I am a nice teacher – I hope," she adds. "In homeroom, you can basically do whatever you want. On Mondays, I like to let you catch up on your weekends, so there's usually no work in homeroom on those days. On other days, it depends. Since today is the first day of school, I am allowing you to do whatever you want. Yes, Christina, that means talking to your friends."

The students laugh light-heartedly again, and the dark-skinned girl looks up from talking to the Marlene character, blushing a bit. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Pedrad, I didn't mean to be disrespectful," she says, embarrassed.

Mrs. Pedrad waves a hand. "Say no more, Christina. I know most of you and I know you _love_ to talk, but just hang in with me here. You can talk in five minutes, deal? I just have a few things to tell you."

She continues. "All right, as I know most of you, but not everybody, I'd like everyone who will be participating in their _first_ year here at Roth High, come on up."

I sigh dramatically and stand up from my chair. There are are a few other kids, who introduce themselves "politely" but I can't catch the names. No, I don't want to.

Finally, it's my turn.

"Hi, I'm Tris, I just moved here from Maine," I say, bored, and Mrs. Pedrad nods as if for me to continue.

"I have an older brother, Caleb."

Then I flounce down the aisle to my empty seat – but find that it's been taken by the guy who's doodling boxers.

I have no patience for these boys who think they can do whatever they want.

"Hello?" I say obnoxiously, sick of the boy already. " _My seat_." I gesture to the seat.

He raises an eyebrow. "Yes, Tris?" he says in a deep voice, raising his head.

Oh, his eyes. They are a deep blue, almost black. I want to lose myself in them, but – but no. I am not one of those weak, flirty girls. I am the _head_ , the _top_ , the _coolest_. I am _not_ influenced by those eyes.

"It's my seat," I say, raising an eyebrow to match his.

"Actually, Tris, you can find another seat," he answers calmly.

How dare he? This guy has some nerve. Well, I'll fix that. I have loads of evil pranks to pull on people I don't like. Like cutting their hair, or pretending hot sauce is strawberry juice, 'cuz then he might put it on pancakes.

I realize the whole class is staring at me and the boy with the blue eyes.

"Look, kid, get a move on, okay?" I say impatiently.

"No." The corner of his mouth turns a bit up.

"What? What's so funny?" I demand.

"You calling me kid when I'm a foot taller than you," he answers, not missing a beat.

"Oh, shut the hell up, won't you," I grumble and punch him.

He doesn't even flinch. "That's your version of a punch?" he asks, amused.

I punch again, putting all my weight behind it.

"Ooh, nice massage. Thanks," he says, smiling fully now, in a creepy sort of way. "One more punch, sweetie, you'll regret it."

I punch him again, and suddenly he grabs my wrists and swings them around him. Searing pain shoots through me, and I hear a _crack_.

I am howling in pain. How dare he!

The room is erupting in alarmed shouting. My wrists are burning in pain, and I feel myself falling. No one catches me. Everything is blurry with my tears, and I look down at my wrists. Blood is pouring out from the one I punched with. The other is just … Oh damn. I'm fairly sure that an index finger is _not_ supposed to be horizontal.

I hear Mrs. Pedrad shouting for the nurse and the principal. The boy who hurt me is still sitting, quite comfortably, in _my chair_.

The pain is too great. I can't stand it. I slowly, slowly, _slowly_ , release myself into a deep, deep black.

 **Sorry about this, guys. I just felt that if I had another chapter of Tris-being-mean, and nothing else, I wouldn't be able to stand it. So, I added a little twist. By the way, does any of your blood boil when you read how Tris treats her family? It sure did mine. But don't worry, the Divergent Crew is gonna shape her up. Tris, get** **ready** **for the biggest adventure of your life!**

 **Be brave.**


	5. Chapter 5

**HUGE HUGE HUGE shoutout to my supporter, BooksLover2000. He/she is the best supporter you could ever wish for. Thank you, BooksLover2000, for all the ideas and support you've given me! All the rest of you, review like BooksLover2000! He/she is a ROLE MODEL for me, and I hope he/she can be one for you too! Enjoy the fifth chapter, and please review!**

The pain. It's dark black at first. Searing through my wrist and fingers. Then gradually, it gets lighter, to a dark gray, and then to a lighter gray, and then suddenly, I can see the world around me.

The pain is too great, though. I howl in agony.

Immediately, a white-robed figure rushes up to me.

"Tris Prior, you're awake. Is your wrist hurting?"

"Damn you, it's hurting," I snap weakly. "You realize some stuck-up boy in my class twisted it?"

"Yes, we are aware that he hurt you severely. We are also aware of the fact that you punched him first, and that he told you not to punch him again, and you did, and he blocked it as a self-defense."

I growl, going through my arsenal of severest pranks to pull on this damn doctor.

"So do something about it! Heal me! Do your magic crap! Just get this pain away!" I shriek, not able to stand it.

"Tris, I don't like your tone," the doctor says admonishingly.

"I don't care," I retort, smiling a little inside, because with Mom or Caleb, this would always work.

But for some reason, it doesn't with this doctor.

"Tris, if you're not polite, we're going to have to put you to sleep for the remainder of your stay here at the hospital," the doctor says firmly.

I snarl. "Shut up."

The doctor raises his eyebrows. "No, Tris. You can't speak that way to people. People are hurt because of you. Your career is going to be seriously messed up if you keep being rude to people."

"Still don't care," I say.

"Listen to me, Tris. What do you want to do when you finish college? Or, should I say, _if_ you finish college?"

I am sick of these people. Some nerve they have!

"I'm gonna call Mom and tell her to take me to a different hospital, with better doctors," I threaten, and the doctor shrugs.

"Feel free. I'm guessing that means you can wait two hours on a bumpy road to heal that excruciating pain you have right now?"

I groan. The pain really is unbearable. "Fine. I'm sorry. But please, please get the pain away."

"All right. I'm going to give you some painkillers, and then you're going to have to undergo a bit of surgery. But don't worry, it's only minor. Basically, your right wrist is sprained and bruised severely, and your left index finger is twisted. We'll need to put both of them in a splint, which means you can't do schoolwork for a while. I'm suggesting that you stay either here at the hospital or at your house for at least a month, until the splint can come off."

Best news of the day.

"I'll give you Advil and painkillers if you want to go home. But for now, you have to stay here a week."

"In a coma?" I ask.

"It's not exactly a coma. It's pretty much pain-induced sleep, like the kind you had immediately after Four Eaton hurt you."

Ah. So _that's_ his name. Good to know. The Four is a little odd, but with a little snooping, I can probably figure it out.

"Sound good?" the doctor says, a bit kindly.

"Yeah, sure," I answer, trying to sound bored but epically failing because my hands hurt so much. Then I realize something. "By the way, did I or … Four … get punished?"

I don't care about punishments. I have persuasion skills, so I can probably put all the blame on Four and go free myself.

"Yes. You and Four Eaton are suspended from school for a week for violent physical activity, but since you're going to be away for a month and a quarter, it doesn't really matter to you. But Tris, I _am_ disappointed as to how you behaved on the first day of school."

I shut my mouth, sensing that if I'm sassy one more time, he won't hesitate to kick me out.

 _Just let him ramble_ , I think.

But he doesn't ramble. He just says, "Next time, judge your strength against your opponent's before lashing out."

Then he puts his hand on my forehead. "Good, you don't have a fever," he says lightly, as if he hadn't just encouraged me to hit weaker students. At least I _think_ that was what he meant.

He gives me a quick once-over. "Tris, I'll be back with some painkillers. Please stay in your bed."

Oh. I didn't even realize I was lying in a hospital bed. I'm wearing one of those hospital gowns that I _hate_. I realize that some nurses probably had to undress me and dress me in this, and I cringe at the thought.

I hear other patients howling from outside, just like me when I woke up. I feel sorry for them – wait, _what_? I _never_ feel sorry for people. Something bad is happening to me. Really bad.

My dad used to make me go to a psychologist to diagnose my "negative feelings." Of course, I didn't put up with it for long. But the psychologist would always say, "Beatrice, use a mental diary."

I would be like, "What the hell?"

He'd be like, "Reach into your brain, Beatrice. Pull out a diary there. Unlock it with a golden key and think the thoughts you want to. Then lock the key and slip the diary away again. Then, when you need it again, unlock the diary and keep on thinking, imagining your thoughts pressing onto paper with ink. Try it now, Beatrice."

I think about the psychologist. Poor him, having to try and "help" people who hated him.

But I decide to try his advice. I imagine a diary, stuck inside my brain. I pull it out gently and unlock it mentally with a beautiful golden key. Pages appear before me, pages that I can fill with my thoughts and dreams. Literally.

A beautiful, new, shining ink pen lies beside it. I pick it up mentally and begin to write my thoughts.

 _Dear Diary –_

 _I'm not sure if I'm going crazy. This is mental, you know. Crazy. I literally saw that pen and paper in my brain, and the ink that's appearing on these nonexistent pages is coming up a deep sea-blue, the same color as – oh damn. The boy's eyes. Four, I think his name was. His eyes are the same color as my ink. What is that telling me about my subconscious brain?_

 _What is happening to me? I am this powerful teenage girl. But ever since I entered Roth High, I feel like my brain is twisting and turning. No one respects me here. I am not their 'queen.' Everyone can say what they like, and spraining a wrist and twisting a finger only gets you a suspended week. It doesn't make sense._

 _I don't know if I'm me anymore. I don't know what I'll do when I see Mom and Caleb. I don't know what's going to happen to me_.

 **Hope this satisfied you. If you** **have** **any suggestions, review or PM me. I try to accommodate whatever you readers want if you give me ideas. Please, guys. I've been pumping out five chapters in about thirteen or fourteen hours, and it's kinda hard, especially because I spent nine of those hours sleeping and two and a half of those hours eating (I know, it was a LONG meal and I was EXHAUSTED).** **So please, make me happy and REVIEW! Yay!**

 **I'm weird.**

 **Be brave.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yay for long chapters and great reviews! I'd love to see more of the second, and I'm sure - at least I hope - that you would love to see more of the first. So whoo-hoo! We have a deal!**

 **Don't listen to anything I say, I'm crazy. No, but seriously. Please review and I hope you enjoy!**

I mentally close the diary. I think I'm going crazy. A few hours ago, I was tossing my brother's books onto the floor, ordering him around, and snapping at my weak mom. Now, as I look back on it, I think, "Good. They deserved it."

But then, I think of Four Eaton's eyes. I know, it's odd, the first guy who actually hurt me badly is the guy who makes me want to repent for everything that I did.

But the blue. So deep, so beautiful. So astonishing. So lovely and dark.

 _What is happening to me_?

The doctor comes in again, holding a small jar of pills and a large cup of water. He hands them both to me.

"Take two of them," he tells me. "You can take more in a few hours, but don't take them all at once."

I nod meekly, looking at his stern face.

I take two pills and put them at the back of my mouth, then swish them down with a huge gulp of water.

Almost immediately, the pain diminishes a bit. I sigh in relief. "Thank you, Doctor."

What? When had I ever said _thank you_?

The doctor notices and smiles a bit. "Tris, in a few hours, we're going to have to do surgery. But, if you want, we can do it now. It's up to you."

I think a bit. "I'll do it now. Better to get it over with, right?" I say.

The doctor smiles a bit. "Of course, Tris. I'll get the correct equipment," he says, and goes out again. In a few minutes, he comes back.

"We're technically supposed to put you in a kids surgery room, but I'm letting you off. Nurses, come here, please."

Two women in long white coats wheel a table in. It has a bunch of syringes, bottles with yellowish liquid – I assume it's serum – I _hope_ it's serum – and a bunch of other doctoral stuff that I never bothered about before.

"We're just gonna stick a needle in you and you'll go to sleep, okay?" one of the nurses say.

I want to protest – I'm afraid. But I just nod stiffly.

The doctor fills a syringe with the serum – phew, it _is_ serum – and comes over to me. Before he injects me, he whispers, "Do you realize how much you have changed already, Beatrice Prior?"

Then he sticks the needle in my neck, and the world turns black.

 _Four is sitting in the empty homeroom. He's doodling again, but this time, it's of me with bulging muscles and a – a_ beard _. He sees me there._

 _"_ _I've been waiting for you," he says, smiling a bit. "C'mere." He beckons._

 _I can't help it. I approach him, those blue eyes drawing me in. A word comes to mind. 'Beautiful.'_

 _He keeps smiling. "Hey, girl. You're beautiful."_

 _I want to run away. I am repulsed – I think. But those blue eyes are convincing me to come towards him._

 _"_ _I think you're just the best girl in the world," he says seductively, and my heartbeat quickens. But now I am a foot away from him, and suddenly he's grabbing my arms and pushing his lips to mine –_

 _And then he leans back ever so slightly, so we don't touch lips. He throws me on the ground and begins punching and kicking me, and I feel warm liquid trickling down my cheek, and he is snarling, "This is for what you did to Caleb. This one is from your mother. This one is from Susan. She hated you, Tris. She was using you. And you just went along with it. Idiot. Stupid. Moron. Prick."_

 _With each word, he slams down on me, until I'm numb and there are no more tears left. I lie still, paralyzed, until Four's eyes change into Susan's placid ones, and then all of Four's body is being transformed into Susan, and she keeps hitting me too, and I'm screaming and crying and yelling._

 _Then, all of a sudden, the scene changes._

 _I hear my alarm clock and wake up. I get out of bed – and find that it's Caleb's bed. I am wearing Caleb's pajamas, too._

 _I look in Caleb's mirror and –_

 _Oh damn._

 _I am Caleb. My tousled brown hair is Caleb's. My humble eyes are Caleb's._

 _Well, I have no time to waste. I sense that I really want to finish that book I'd been reading. So, I brush my – I mean Caleb's – teeth and his hair, too. I might as well make a good impression if I'm going to turn into someone else._

 _I get dressed in Caleb's usual clothes – perfect blue jeans, a white T-shirt, and a black jacket. I shove my – I mean Caleb's – feet into typical worn sneakers._

 _I must get to school soon. I walk downstairs and – phew! – there's my book. I plop down on a chair and begin to read it._

 _Suddenly, I come in. I mean, another Tris. She looks like she has a bad smell under her nose and crosses the room, snatches my precious book, and chucks it behind her._

 _"_ _Make me a soft piece of toast. Nice and buttery. And make it quick, I have to go to school soon," she demands, and I realize, that's what I say and now I realize how unpleasant it is._

 _But her eyes have this kind of intensity in them, and she slaps me across the face._

 _"_ _When I tell you to do something, you do it. Do you understand me?" she asks, cold fire burning in her eyes. I nod meekly._

 _"_ _Sure, Tris," I answer, and get up and make her a piece of toast. I don't exactly know how to do it, because usually Caleb does it for me. But I manage, and I hand it to her. She sniffs it._

 _"_ _Ew! Gross," she says and – and then she smashes the heavily buttered part in my face._

 _I splutter. I don't know what to say._

 _"_ _Cat got your tongue?" she asks nastily. "I wonder where that dirty chicken of a mother is."_

 _At that moment, Mom enters the room. I – I mean the old Tris - snorts._

 _"_ _Can one of you make a decent piece of toast?" she asks snottily._

 _"_ _Do it yourself, Beatrice," Mom says wearily. I feel sorry for her._

 _"_ _No."_

 _My old self is so sassy, so rude, I can't take it. "Shut up!" I snap. "Don't talk to your family that way!"_

 _"_ _Caleb?" Mom asks, shocked. "That was very rude of you."_

 _I want to strangle everybody. How can they not realize?_

 _"_ _Mom! I'm me. Tris. I'm a different Tris, the Tris that a boy hurt and is in the hospital" –_

 _Wait. The hospital. Where is the hospital? Why am I here?_

 _The scene changes again._

 _A pretty, quaint little house. Sweet-smelling grass surrounds the house. The house porch rests on the sand, and beautiful rolling blue waves are ten yards away._

 _Four is sitting on a lawn chair, and I realize with a start that I am sitting next to him. He rubs his thumb over the back of my hand smoothly._

 _I shy back, afraid that he will hurt me again, like last time. Last time … the words drift around my brain and then they're lost._

 _"_ _Tris," he says gently, "Tris."_

 _Those eyes are pulling me in, and he traces his index finger over my cheek._

 _"_ _Tris."_

 _And suddenly he leans in, and we share a kiss – so deep, so sweet, so gentle, and my body is braced for possible blows, but this is a simple, loving kiss._

 _"_ _I love you." The words escape his mouth, and I murmur, "I don't know what's happening, Four, but I love you too."_

 _And suddenly men clothed in black appear, and they advance towards me, binding and gagging me. Then they hobble Four with a rope and bind his hands behind him, and hold a gun to his head._

 _"_ _You have five seconds to admit you don't love her," the man holding the gun threatens. "Five. Four. Three. Two."_

 _I want to scream at him for being stupid. Just say he doesn't love me! He mouths, "I love you, Tris."_

 _And suddenly the man says, "One," and presses the trigger._

 _Four's head falls to the side, he topples over, and I scream._

 **Hope you enjoyed! If you want another long chapter, just press that review button down below and leave some constructive criticism, positive reviews, or downright hate! Well, not the hate part. Just the first two. Thanks, everyone!**

 **Be brave.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the short chapter, folks. Hope you enjoy!**

Light begins to appear. Slowly objects appear throughout the brightly lit room.

Then, suddenly, everything appears in sharp focus.

"Hello?" I ask, because I am in a baby-blue colored room, with picture books on a shelf to my right and a TV on my left. Next to both beds, there are small desks. I am lying on a soft, silky bed that looks like it was made for children.

There's a sheet of paper on one of my desks. It says, _Tris, when you wake up, press the red button above this note_.

I look up. Sure enough, on the wall above the note and desk, there's a big red button.

I raise my hand and press it.

Then I collapse on my bed and wait.

I am not sure of the time because there is no clock in the room. I am still shivering from the dreams – I mean nightmares – that I had in my "coma."

Suddenly, the doctor comes in, accompanied by the same two nurses as before.

"Hello, Tris," he says pleasantly. "Are your hands feeling better?"

I look at them, twist them so I can see them at different angles. "Yeah, they're great. How long have I been in a coma?"

"A week," he answers cheerfully. I stare at him.

" _What_?" I ask.

"Oh, you had some dreams," he says, still smiling. "You see, those dreams were separated by one day of rest each. You just didn't notice. And they started on the second day of the coma. The first day was dreamless."

"How do you know I had dreams?" I ask, confused and terrified because of the dreams.

"Most patients do. It reflects on their deepest secrets and deepest regrets. If you're comfortable, you might want to tell me the dreams."

I shake my head. "I never want to think about them again, Doctor."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "Now, you may be released in a week. Does that sound good? You've been an exceptionally lucky patient, Tris, so I can let you out early."

"Yes. And do I have to pay for this?" I ask. What? I would _never_ ask if I had to pay for something. I might just walk out.

"No, your parents' insurance covered this."

"Where am I?" I ask. "This is a different room."

"Yes, you had been in the ER, but the hospital was packed, so I had to move you to a children's surgery room."

"What am I supposed to do in here for a week?" I ask, already bored, gesturing at the picture books.

"Oh, no. You don't have to stay here entirely. We will take you to a communal children's surgery room, where you can meet the other children who underwent surgery, during every afternoon. But, of course, if you don't want to, you may stay and watch TV the whole week." He smiles.

I frown. "How old are the kids?" I ask.

"Honestly, it depends," he replies. "Sometimes all of them are under ten, and sometimes they are all your age. It depends who got injured. Then, of course, there are children who have cancer, and you may visit them as long as you are kind and respectful, do you understand me?" His voice is now stern and there's not a trace of a smile on his weathered, experienced face.

"Yes, Doctor, I understand. Do you have On Demand on the TV?"

"No, but we have Netflix and cable. We will also return to you your phone, which you are free to use. Nurses will be glad to give you some spare chargers, as long as you return them."

I nod. "Doctor – I don't know your name. What should I call you?"

He smiles wistfully. "You may call me Doctor, Tris. Just Doctor."

 **(Time Skip to the end of the week – sorry, people)**

"I just need you to sign these papers and then you're good to go," Doctor says. He and I have become good friends. I believe I'm changing. I no longer feel like everything is below me. I see Doctor as my equal, perhaps even my superior.

I scribble my signature, and then my mom does the same with hers. She came fifteen minutes ago to give guardian permission for me to be released. Doctor wouldn't allow me to just walk out.

"Thank you, Tris. Thank you, Mrs. Prior," he says. "I had a wonderful time with your daughter, Mrs. Prior. Tris, I'll miss you. Will you come visit me soon?"

"Yeah, sure, as soon as I break another bone," I joke lightheartedly. I _am_ changed. Back before I entered Roth High, I would never crack a joke. I'd be sullen and silent, or I'd be snotty and rude. What a terrible person I was back then.

Of course, I still need room for improvement. I find myself thinking negatively about almost everything. It's only when I think of the boy Four's eyes that my whole personality changes for the better, temporarily.

"You're free, Tris. Bye," he says, waving a little. I wave back and walk out of the room.

Then I walk outside.

It is incredible outside. I've missed the sunlight, the leaves changing color. A sweet dusty scent wafts over my nose. Children are laughing and shouting happily, the sky is blue, and the grass is still green.

I've missed the beauty of the world.

 **Sorry if this ending is kinda cheesy. I'm trying to make Tris recover gradually. I think she'll be 98% complete at a game of truth or dare next chapter ...**

 **Be brave.**


	8. Chapter 8

**And here's to chapter 8! I think y'all will appreciate this one ...**

My eyes open at five thirty in the morning of their own accord. Marveling at how rare this is, I swing my legs over my bed and stand up hesitantly.

I flick on the light and am met, with sharp reality in the stark white light, my room. I cross my room to my window and look outside. I can't really see anything though. I can only see my face reflected in it.

What I see in the reflection is an undeveloped teenage girl with long brown hair and almond-shaped gray-green eyes staring back at me. She is wearing Spandex and a gym shirt, and her hair is tousled to a point where the word "dignified" is no longer a word anymore.

I turn away from my hopeless self and walk into my bathroom. I shower quickly, letting the steaming-hot water run down my back luxuriously.

Then I remember the hospital, and the dreams, and suddenly I don't feel like relaxing anymore. I step out of the shower and dry myself in a fluffy white towel.

I perform my morning routine – brushing my teeth, brushing my hair, putting on moisturizer – and then I exit the bathroom and look for an outfit to wear.

I decide on stylish calf-length jeans and a fire-colored tank top with "Taylor Swift" in bold letters dashed across it. I usually never wear those kinds of shirts – the color, style, and promotion of T-Swift is not exactly my type - but I feel like no one at Roth High cares what I wear. They only care about my attitude. So even though the shirt is childish, I put it on and shift it so people can see my bra straps. They can at least know that I have _something_ worth hiding under this loose-fitting tank top. Then I go into the bathroom again and apply deodorant, then my makeup – again, just some lip gloss, nude-colored eye shadow, and mascara.

Then I shove my feet into my typical cowboy boots and head downstairs.

It's odd. Whenever I wake up, Caleb's always already up, sitting at the kitchen counter, book in hand. It's disturbing. I could wake up at three in the morning and he'd be sitting there when I came down.

I clop downstairs with my iPhone, earbuds, and house keys in my hand. I had forgotten my house keys the first day of school, but luckily I had never needed them. Mom and Dad always left two pairs of house keys next to the microwave, in case we needed them when we went out someplace.

As always, Caleb's sitting at the table reading a book. My first instinct is to lash out at him, grab his book, dump it in the sink, and order him to make me breakfast.

Then I remember my dreams and take a deep breath. Controlling myself and shaking a bit, I walk over to where we keep the toast and I _make my own breakfast_.

I butter my bread and spread some yummy peach jam with chia seeds all over, then add raspberries to the side of my plate and pour myself a rich glass of chocolate milk.

I sit down at the table across from Caleb with my food. Caleb, who hasn't noticed me yet apparently, says wearily, "Sure, Tris, I'll make your toast in a moment. Just wait a sec."

My eyebrows come together. "Caleb," I say in what I hope is a friendly tone, "Caleb, I made my own breakfast."

He raises his head from his book in surprise. "Really, Tris? Thanks," he says with genuine pleasure and surprise. I smile a little at him.

"Caleb, what do you eat for breakfast?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

"Usually, I eat Special K cereal, no nuts, with cherry yogurt and a decaf coffee. Why do you want to know?" he asks absent-mindedly, returning to his book.

I smile. I had had no interest previously in what Caleb ate for breakfast, but now I do. "Oh, no reason. Be right back."

Part of my brain screaming at myself for doing this, I go on top of the fridge and get Special K cereal. Hiding what I'm doing from Caleb, I create his cereal mix and make some coffee with a noiseless coffeemaker. Then I set it all down in front of him.

"There you go, Caleb," I say in a friendly tone. He glances up, sees what I've done for him, and breaks out in a huge smile.

"Tris! Oh my gosh, thanks!" he says happily and digs into his meal. "Wow, this is delicious! How can I repay you?"

I brace myself. "Don't let me push you around like I've done for the past years," I say, forcing a smile. "I – I'm sorry, Caleb. I haven't been a good enough sister to you. Will you forgive me?" I almost choke on the last words. This is so unlike the old me.

He stands up and gazes at me joyfully. "Tris – I always knew you were this person. This kind, selfless, brave, intelligent, honest **(ha ha ha, get it?)** girl with a heart of gold inside your crusty, snappy outside. C'mere, sis." He spreads his arms wide, and tentatively I step into them and gingerly embrace him.

"Oh, Caleb. What have I turned myself into?" I whisper, tears forming at the corners of my eyes. "I'm sorry."

He strokes my hair and I relax, dissolving the – as Caleb called it – "crusty, snappy" layers outside, until all that's left is a poor, lanky girl with a tender, raw new skin.

He hugs me tighter, than releases me. "Couldn't wait for my breakfast," he chuckles, and we sit down across from each other.

But suddenly, Caleb moves his food and scooches his butt over to sit next to me. We hold hands with the hands we are not using to eat.

Then Mom comes in.

She does a double take at us sitting next to each other, holding hands, smiling, and eating delicious breakfasts.

"Well, kids, what happened here?" she asks curiously, gesturing to our joined hands. I smile a little, and Caleb answers, "Tris has changed a little bit, Mom."

Mom smiles and crosses the room to hug me. I inhale her scent, which is lemon and cream from her perfume. "My baby is back," she murmurs in my ear, so Caleb can't hear.

I shake her off playfully. "Oh, Mom. Just because I'm a teensie bit nicer, it doesn't mean I want to be babied," I tease.

She laughs and makes herself breakfast. Then we all sit down together and catch up on years' worth of fun, laughter, and stories.

And then it's time for school.

 **And bam. Tris has recovered herself for her family. But not yet for Four and the others ... *winks devilishly* I have a feeling Tris is still not going to be very nice to them. Just gotta read more, then, right? Please review, folks! I'm getting some more, but I'd really prefer a whole bunch, okey-dokey?**

 **Be brave.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi folks! I wrote y'all a LONG chapter this time. I hope you enjoy!**

"Hey Tris. Do you want a ride to school?" Caleb asks me, slipping on his biker's leather jacket.

"Uh – _duh_ ," I say, smiling a bit. "'Course I do."

He grins. Up until now, I've never bothered to ride on his motorcycle with him. I've always ridden in a taxi or my mom's small silver sedan. Sure, I've secretly admired his Ducati Monster 696 naked bike, and I've watched him take his friends and girlfriends on joyrides, but I'd always considered myself above motorcycles. Not now, though.

He grins. "Really, Tris? My Ducati Monster is a mouthful," he says lightly.

"Well, sure. Can I use my regular bike helmet?" I ask. He shrugs and makes a face.

"Preferably, no, but it'll have to do until I can get you some proper gear. It's dangerous, you know," he says, and I feel that overprotective big-brother effect that most big brothers have on their little siblings.

Mom raises her eyebrows. "Caleb, you need to be safe with her, you understand me? This is her first time and I don't want her to end up in the hospital, all right?"

"Sure, Mom. I get it. See ya, Mom," he says casually, shoving some fancy motorcycling sneakers on. He only uses them when motorcycling.

I grab my bike helmet. It's cream-colored, with pretty nut-brown swirls and designs on the top. Caleb gets me his second pair of pads. Since I'm practically his size, they fit me.

Caleb leaves the house. "Tris, at my motorcycle in five!" he calls out.

I marvel quietly. Caleb would never have called a deadline for me to be outside just a few weeks before. In fact, I would be the one calling deadlines for him. But since I saw reason from my terrifying dreams in the hospital and apologized, he and Mom have been a little bit bolder. It's great. I really appreciate it. It makes me feel like we're actually friends, not just related by blood.

I leave the house with my wallet holding my phone, earbuds, house keys, and something else I had forgotten last time – my trademark sparkly pink lip gloss. Sometimes, when I eat, the gloss comes off, so I like to reapply it as much as possible to keep the glow on.

I wave goodbye to Mom and head to the back of the house, which is where Caleb likes to keep his motorcycle. Sure enough, he's straddling the seat, helmet on, visor down. He beckons to me with a gloved hand, looking totally swag.

"Yo, Tris!" he calls in a deep, manly, seductive voice, and I can't help but giggle.

I go over to him. "How exactly do I get on this thing, Caleb?" I ask.

He shrugs. He might be smiling too, but I can't see. His visor is preventing me from seeing anything on his face other than his eyes.

"Well, you should probably get in front of me. Don't rest on the handlebars like you can on bikes. You should kinda sit on my lap, 'kay? Look cool and hold on tight."

"Yeah," I say. "I wanna see everyone's faces when they see the snobby, rude Tris Prior laughing with her brother on a sweet swag motorcycle."

We laugh together, and I smile at myself. I'm so proud of how much I've changed.

I mount the heavy metal bike and rest against the insides of Caleb's thighs. "Hey, someday maybe you can teach me to drive on this ol' buddy," I say, only half-joking.

He shrugs again. "Eh. Maybe. Hold tight, Tris."

He revvs the engine and presses the gas. We shoot off into the dew-filled morning.

"Hey Tris!" Caleb shouts over the loud noise of the bike. "Who's your homeroom teacher?"

"Hana Pedrad," I call after a moment of thinking. "I forget what room she's in though. Something on the third floor!"

Caleb guides the motorcycle carefully and turns it down the lane. We shoot down the street.

"Well, your schedule should be in your cubby! Each student gets one! They're on the first floor! You're supposed to check it each morning and afternoon!" he bellows loudly over the engine.

"Oh, okay!" I yell. "Caleb, where do you park your motorcycle?"

"In the parking lot!" he answers loudly. "There's a special place for bikes and motorcycles in a corner!"

"Great! Have you had a lot of homework lately?"

"Can't hear you!" he shouts. "A few more minutes 'til we get to school! Wait until then to talk!"

I relax at his words, leaning back a bit.

"Hey, Tris! Stop it! Your hair's getting in my mouth!" Caleb shrieks, and I moan in disgust.

"Ew, Caleb!" I get a rubber band and pull my hair into a messy bun. "There!"

I sit comfortably in between Caleb's thighs, the wind caressing my cheek. Or rather, a little less poetic, whipping it. We're going really fast. I laugh in delight.

"Damn, Caleb, this is a sweet ride!" I exclaim as he swerves to the right. "Hard to believe a nerd like you can drive this uber-cool sweet ride!"

Caleb doesn't reply, and I realize what I've just said.

"Oh crap, Caleb, I didn't mean the 'nerd' thing offensively," I say, panicking a little. "Hey Caleb. Seriously. I'm new to the whole 'being nice' thing."

Caleb still doesn't reply. I really struck a nerve there.

"Caleb, please," I beg. "I told you, I'm really bad at this. Come on, I'm sorry!"

He remains silent, and I curse. "Dammit. I should've shut my trap," I mutter to myself. I don't know why it bothers me so much that he's offended. Wait, yes I do. The second dream I had in the hospital. That's why.

Caleb finally breaks the silence in a quiet tone, so I have to lean in real close to hear what he's saying.

"You could seriously hurt people with those words, Tris. Think before you speak, all right?"

"Of course, Caleb," I say, relieved.

He doesn't respond, just keeps driving, occasionally making a few adjustments with the motorcycle.

Finally, we arrive at the school. There's a parking lot that I hadn't noticed at first. Caleb slows down a bit and we head into the lot at about five miles per hour. High school kids stop and stare. Not many kids have motorcycles that they ride on to school.

I glance at the beautiful campus once again. The huge school building looms, welcoming, in front of me. Kids are, once again, lounging on the perfect grass and some have even taken off their shoes and socks and are dipping their feet in blue, sparkling, clean ponds.

Caleb curves expertly, dipping low to the ground, so that we're backing up in reverse. Now most students are staring at us, impressed. I even catch a few guys and girls from my homeroom glancing at us.

Caleb kills the engine and both of us dismount. Almost immediately, guys are swarming Caleb and asking if they can have a turn, and clueless girls are asking me if Caleb's my boyfriend.

Yech! Gross.

"Hey! Leave my sister alone!" Caleb yells, when he sees me getting overwhelmed by the students. Almost immediately, they all back off. "Cut us some slack! Y'all have good cars too, y'know!"

Waves of disagreements come over the small crowd. Caleb points to a car. "All right, tell me if that's a Ferrari or not, you people!"

The dark-skinned girl from my homeroom class raises her hand. "That's mine," she calls out. "My parents are fashion designers."

"What's your name?" Caleb asks, and the girl raises an eyebrow. A young man with long, shaggy hair puts an arm around her, almost protectively. I recognize him as one of the nerds in my homeroom too.

"Christina," she answers boldly.

"Nice. Now lay off us. People, why aren't you impressed with Christina?"

The crowd shrugs. I guess Caleb's stumped them.

Then Caleb gets tired of trying to persuade everyone. "Folks, just leave us be. C'mon, Tris."

He leads me through the crowd to the school building. I get to the edge of the crowd, and then I see him.

Him. Four. The boy with the blue eyes. The boy who severely hurt me, and who hospitalized me for more than a week. The boy whom I had dreams about. Dreams about him hurting me, and dreams about him being killed. I can't stand the sight of him, yet I can't look away. My eyes are glued to the tall, slim, muscular figure leaning against a sturdy oak tree, doodling again.

He's not looking at me yet. I catch a glimpse of him drawing a belt lashing down on a cowering figure. Creepy.

Then suddenly, he looks up at me and I can't tear my eyes away from him. My body is immobile. Caleb yanks my hand gently.

"Tris, what's wrong?" he asks softly. My face has a picture of sheer terror on it.

His eyes follow my eyes to Four, leaning against the tree. "Oh." Caleb's voice is low, and he drags me over to him.

"Hey, Four," Caleb says conversationally. I just keep staring.

Four nods. "Hi."

"So, you're the punk that beat up my sister?" Caleb sounds threatening – a person to be afraid of.

But Four doesn't seem intimidated. He just nods and says stiffly, "I told her to stop. She wouldn't. She hit me. Self-defense, Caleb Prior, self-defense."

The way he says my brother's name makes shivers run up and down my spine.

"Look, Four." I take a deep breath, forcing the words out. "I – I thought you were a nice kid. I thought you _cared_. But no. You're just like every other poor kid who likes beating up the weaker ones." I realize I just referred to myself as weak, but know there is nothing to do about it.

"Your eyes," I continue. "Your eyes have, like, some kind of thing in them that makes me want to trust you. Your eyes draw me in." I pause, thinking of the dreams. "I see your eyes, and I see layers of deep blue. It's incredible. Those eyes are a mark of a good person."

"But Four, you're _not_ a good person. You're a violent, cruel teenager. What kind of teenage boy draws muscular men and people being beaten up?" As I say this, a shadow passes over Four's face and he looks nothing short of horrified.

"Tris, you weren't supposed to see that" – he says, alarmed, slamming the doodling paper onto his chest.

"Ah. Secrets." I raise my eyebrows knowingly. "Keeping secrets. What is it, Four? Does your mama or papa whip you, you sorry little excuse for a human?"

I can tell I've struck a nerve with my teasing. Four stands up, stock-still though, and he is blinking hard and shaking. I sneer at him.

"I regret knowing you," I say coldly, and turn my back on him.

Then I walk away.

 **Did you enjoy this? I know I did. I think it's pretty - as Tris would say - swag that Caleb, the notorious nerd whose only interest is in books, can ride a motorcycle and is really good at it. I hope you liked it. Let me know if you have any ideas for** **truth** **or dare, which should be coming up in a few chapters! Please review!**

 **Be brave.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Whoo-hoo, ten chapters! Since it's ten chapters, I decided to present you readers with a longer chapter than usual. By the way, I am SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO sorry for the wait. I've just been really busy. Anyway, I'm trying to lengthen out my chapters more so you folks get to read more and then review and stuff like that. But anyway, I don't want to blab too much, on and on and on - so without further ado - Chapter 10.**

"All right, kids," Mrs. Pedrad says, brushing some loose gray hair out of her eyes. We're all seated at desks, and Mrs. Pedrad's face is serious, but not too serious. I think she spotted something. And I'm right. "If you know what's good for you, Uriah, you'll stop drawing lips on Marlene's leg."

Uriah jerks up. He's holding a red marker in his hand, and as he comes up, he accidentally streaks it up Marlene's cheek.

"Uriah!" Marlene says in annoyance, rubbing it off. She runs to the back, gets a Clorox wipe, and wipes it off. I frown. Clorox wipes sting when they get rubbed on your skin.

The class laughs, but Four is sitting in his usual spot and still doodling. This time it's of a man and a little boy next to him, but instead of smiles, both of them have scowls on their faces. The little boy looks a little like Four himself. Huh. Weird.

"Tris, could you come up to me for a moment?" Mrs. Pedrad asks, beckoning to me. I raise my eyebrows but walk up towards her, trying to ignore Four's stare piercing into my back.

"Everyone else, you do whatever you like," she tells the rest of the class. "And Four, seriously, use the backs of pages when you doodle. We're almost out of paper." Four shrugs nonchalantly, like he doesn't care, even though it's a total waste of the environment. Hana smiles a bit. "Right, I forgot. The Amazon Forest is going to be completely cut down before you decide you're done with doodling, am I right?"

Four remains silent still, adding a house in the background of his picture. "It's not doodling, Hana," he finally says. "It's drawing. There's a difference."

"Sure, sure. But seriously, Tori's getting pretty pissed with you. Paper costs a lot, you know."

Four scoffs. "My parents are paying for my tuition. Charge the costs on them."

Hana rolls her eyes. I have a feeling she knows she can't beat him with words.

"Tris?" she says quietly when I arrive at her desk.

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted you to know that when I saw the whole exchange with Four and you, I was going to prevent it, but I didn't. I let it happen, Tris, and I want you to think about why I did as I did." She nods at me, flashes a quick smile, then says, "Get back to your seat. It's almost first period."

I frown. "Mrs. Pedrad, are the schedules the same every day?"

"Well, yes," she answers, and leans forward conspiratorially. "When other teachers aren't around, you can call me Hana."

My eyebrows contract. This is odd. "Hana, ever since I came, I felt like you're a kid just like us."

Hana laughs, gesturing to her wispy gray hair. "I wish, Tris. I try to get to know all of my students personally, so I can know more about you guys. It's easier for me that way, so I don't have to have any trouble, you know, with the jokes and things, you know?"

I nod. "Sure, sure."

She changes the subject abruptly. "Tris, when you walked into Roth High, you changed. I know who you used to be, Tris. And I know you're not that person anymore." She forces me to look at her by lifting my chin up with a firm yet weathered hand, and I feel like a child being reprimanded by its mother.

"Listen to me, Tris," she continues. "You're going to be teased. There are some kids in this school who won't stand for 'bullies.' They are the bullies, though. They started off as nerdy kids, then got their growth spurts and are now on the defensive side, constantly. Nerds and new kids look up to them, but seasoned students think of them as sensitive, highly explosive bullies.

"They believe they are the protectors. Once they see a potentially mean kid, they swarm and attack. Then _they_ become the bullies, unknowingly. Kids fear them and love 'em at the same time. But some think they're jerks. Take my sons and their friends, for example. My older boy, Zeke, constantly complains about how he would love to kick their asses. Then, out of the blue, he tells me a long story about how rude and smartass they are, and while I'm distracted, his friend Four – yep, the Four who beat you up – and Uriah, and Christina – I'll tell you more about her later -, Will, and some other folks – they go and attack the leader of the group. His name's Peter. Now, when Uriah's serious about something, you know it's practically the Apocalypse, so Peter was scared out of his wits when Uriah approached him, kicked some ass, and told 'im to stop ruining his life, keeping a straight face all the while."

I gape. "Hana" –

"Sorry for the excessive cussing, I get it from my boys," she explains, smiling.

"Not so excessive, Hana. I've heard worse," I say, grinning. "But, uh, I've kinda lost the point of this conversation."

"Me too. Um, let me think." Hana taps a pencil to her left temple thoughtfully, then her eyes light up. "Ah! I remember now. All I wanted to tell you was that once you came back to school, Peter would be after you. Peter _is_ after you. Along with his crew. And you are gonna be beat up pretty bad if you're defenseless. That's why I'm ordering you – and by the way, this is supported whole-heartedly by the principal – you need someone capable with you at all times."

"Oh, so I'm not capable?" I ask, some of the sass coming back into my voice as I realize I cannot defend myself.

"Tris, don't argue. We know fully well that you do not need bodyguards, therefore we are not going to force you to be shadowed in class, only at transition times. Look, Tris, I'm trying to protect you. About a million moms have said this for bad things, but really, Tris, these kids can do serious damage. I don't want you to get hurt, you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah," I say half-heartedly. How embarrassing is this, having to be followed around by someone who's apparently more capable than me!

"So mainly, your people who are gonna be with you are gonna be in a rotation, and most of them are going to be part of the 'gang' that kinda 'subdued' Peter last year."

My mouth drops open. "Please no …" I whisper.

Hana smiles sympathetically. "Sorry, Tris. Principal's orders. Four's gonna be in the rotation."

Okay, this is officially the worst thing that's ever happened in my life. I am so mortified. Four is going to have to practically babysit me and, if necessary, _defend me_!

Oh dammit. Dammit dammit dammit. What am I going to _do_?

"Don't worry, Tris. He's well into the rotation. Anyway, your first partner is a girl named Christina Kravitz. She's the biggest chatterbox you have ever seen, trust me. She's obsessed with shopping and she was the one who distracted everyone else while Four and Uriah and the others scared Peter."

"Okay," I say. Doesn't sound too bad.

"She's the girlfriend of Will, as I'm sure you know. Anyway, I'll introduce you two at the end of homeroom."

I raise an eyebrow. "Looks like it already is the end, Hana."

"Yeah, sure," she answers. "You're right. Christina!" she calls. "Can you come over here please?"

The dark-skinned girl gets up and strides over to us. She has short, straight black hair and a bunch of tattoos all over.

"Christina, remember how I told you about Tris, the girl who needs watching?" Hana asks quietly, but I hear.

"Hana, that's it," I say, my ingrained rudeness coming to life. "What is wrong with you? I can defend myself. Now get out if you don't think I'm capable. I can't stand you."

Hana sighs. "Four!" she calls. As if Four's been expecting it, he gets up and walks over to us, looking at Hana with a perfect poker face.

"Yes, Hana?" he asks politely.

"I think Tris needs a little demonstration," she says, and I gasp when Four pins my arms behind my back with inhuman force. He twists them, not enough for them to break, but enough for them to hurt a lot.

Then he does something so incredibly terrifying, horrifying, and insane at the same time. His eyes glow as he's doing it, and there is a spark of concentration in his eyes as he does it.

He flips me. _He, Four_ , flips me over his arm, but the incredible part is _he catches me_. He literally cradles me in his arms a millisecond before I slam into the ground, and then he almost punches me. When I say _almost_ , I mean he sends his fist forward into my right temple and stops a millimeter away.

Hana smiles sympathetically. "I'm sorry for that, Tris. But that was just a demonstration of what Peter would do to you without protection, and let me tell you, he would _not_ be catching you and stopping his fist as he lobbed a hand at you, d'you understand me?"

I nod, mouth dry, as I remember how close Four's and my lips were when he caught me.

"If you argue again, than we'll listen," she says, and I stare at her.

"What do you mean?" I ask snidely. I feel like I am permanently in my "bad mood" again.

"You don't need people to watch over you," Hana says, indifferent and cold, and I sense fire in her eyes and that she's mad.

But I don't want to back down. "Fine," I say triumphantly. "No people to watch over me. I can fight my own battles, _Hana_."

Four raises his eyebrows, and grabs my shoulder as I turn away.

I spin around. "What is it?" I snap.

"Careful, Tris," is all he says finally, and I spit at him and flounce back to my seat.

Finally the bell rings, and I check my schedule.

 _Homeroom: Hana Pedrad, Room 301_

 _First Period: Math, Room 207_

 _Second Period: History, Room 219_

 _Third Period: Language Arts, Room 310_

 _Fourth Period: Gym, Gymnasium_

 _Lunch_

 _Fifth Period: Life Skills, Gymnasium_

 _Sixth Period: Creative Writing, Room 213_

 _Seventh Period: Assembly, Gymnasium_

Math, Room 207.

I march out and head to math. Then I go to History. My teacher there is a woman named Jeanine Matthews. She's pretty nice but kinda strict too. It's a really kind of weird curriculum this year. Basically, it's all about religious history. So we study, like the Jews in Israel, and Jesus in Israel, and Muhammad on the mountain, and stuff like that. Actually, we're starting with the Jews and she said we'd learn about the stuff next.

As I head to Language Arts, the hall is bustling with noise and activity. I push through the crowd, but it seems rather easy, like the crowd is parting for me.

Then I realize they are not parting for me, they are parting for a blonde-haired boy with sharp green eyes, followed by a huge, bulky dude and a shrewd-looking blonde behind him. There's also a black-haired guy who looks like he uses a gallon of hair gel each morning and has a ton of piercings and tattoos.

The blonde-haired, green-eyed guy who looks like the leader of them sees me and his eyes light up. He strides over to me.

"Hello, my name is Peter. I've been looking for you," he says.

 **Sorry for** **the cliff-hanger. I'll try and update soon!**

 **Peace out.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay, seriously folks? I mean, I know it's only been a day or so, but still, two reviews? People, I'm disappointed.**

 **Whatever.**

 **I'm going to start replying to reviewers on these chapters.**

 **BooksLover2000: I totally agree. But, after all, a person can't just change in a second, or with only a few dreams. It needs to be kind of gradual.**

 **Brokenwings35: You're close. Very close.**

"Peter?" I say, terrified.

Hana was right. I should have listened to her, I should have let her give me protection against him, I was wrong, all wrong. I should never have shrugged her off and thought I could take care of myself.

"Tris, Tris Prior," he says, fake-pleasantly. "Would you mind stepping into an empty classroom with me for a moment?"

I glance around. Practically all the students at the school have gathered around, and there is deadly silence from all of them. I look around for Christina, Uriah, maybe even Four – but see no one.

All the teachers are also missing. I look around again, desperately, and Peter's henchmen crack their knuckles and smirk at me triumphantly. I know there is nothing I can do about it, so I nod silently and follow Peter as he gestures me into a classroom that appears deserted.

He says evilly, "Ladies first," then tells his followers, "Drew, Al, Eric – you guys wait outside and make sure no one can come in."

They all nod, and I am terrified out of my wits when he shuts the door behind him and pins me to the wall.

He quickly finds duct tape and a chair and tapes me to it, then begins.

He swings a fist at me and it collides into my jaw. He begins punching me, harder than I've ever known before, and I am bruised and battered and swollen and bleeding, and I am shouting out, but I know no one will be able to get in.

"We don't _like_ bullies," Peter says through gritted teeth as he connects his fist to my throat. I gag.

Hana was right about them. They are total, messed-up weirdos who are seriously violent.

"Please – Peter – stop," I wheeze. "I'm better. I've changed. Please, Peter!"

He ignores me, scoffing a bit, then concedes punching me. Instead, he lifts my chair and begins dragging me across the room. I cower in fright when I see a butter knife waiting for me on a desk. He grabs it and aims it at my wrist, when suddenly there is a commotion outside.

I hear one of Peter's guys shouting through the door, "Peter, he's coming!"

Then, suddenly, the door bangs open and a boy storms through. He crosses the room to Peter, who's standing there, wide-eyed and frozen in shock, and pins him to the wall just like he did to me.

"What'd you do to her?" he threatens, and Peter comes to life and shakes his head wildly.

"Nothing! Nothing, I swear!"

"What were you doing with a _butter knife_ in your hands?" he asks sharply, waving the butter knife. Then, unexpectedly, he points it at Peter's eye.

"Tell the truth or I'll cut your eye out," he threatens.

Peter closes his eyes instinctively. "Please! Please don't hurt me!"

"TALK!" the stranger bellows.

"Okay! I _might_ have kinda punched her a lot, and then I held the butter knife, but I wasn't _actually_ going to hurt her, it was just kind of a joke, you know?"

With a spit of contempt, the boy shoves Peter to the ground and stomps at him. He throws the butter knife at Peter's arm and it makes a cut. He howls with pain, but my savior pulls the knife out, finds the duct tape he used on me, and tapes Peter to the wall.

Then, the kid runs over to me and begins cutting the tape with the knife, using swift, clean strokes. At last, I am free.

"Who _are_ you?" I ask in disbelief.

He shakes some shaggy hair out of his eyes with a quick flick of his head, then says, "I'm Ezekiel Pedrad."

 **(Time skip to just before lunch. Sorry, folks.)**

The halls are bustling with noise. People stare openly at me, eyes goggling, mouths wide open. Ezekiel, who I remember is the trouble-making brother of Uriah Pedrad, calls a bunch of other kids to come to him. Literally. He cups his hands around his mouth and bellows. "GANG! C'MERE!"

Almost immediately, Christina runs up, accompanied by her boyfriend Will. Uriah comes, and his face is serious for once. He's accompanied by his girlfriend, Marlene. Then a tough-looking girl comes. She has a shaved head and looks like she has her own version of cool, with black pants and a pink shirt. I learn her name is Lynn. A pretty girl comes up, plants a quick kiss on Zeke's lips, and from that I know she is his girlfriend, and I learn quickly that her name is Shauna. She is Lynn's older sister.

Then, last of all, Four comes jogging up, wearing his gym clothes – a tank top that says _Roth High_ on it and black gym shorts. His muscles bulge in his arms and there's a light sheen of sweat coating his face.

"Hey, Zeke, what's up?" he asks casually. Zeke raises an eyebrow and gestures to me.

"Oh. Peter," he says, saying it as a statement, not a question.

"Yup."

"You saved 'er?"

"Yeah."

"Nice one, bro. We gonna" –

"We have no choice."

"Whatever." And Four falls into line casually, so they are all forming a circle around me.

"Okay, _what?_ " I ask, confused.

The girl named Shauna pats me on the back. "Look, kid, Four and Zeke are, like, best bros. Get used to their 'bro talk.'"

At first, I resent being called "kid" but then realize Shauna is two years older than me. She has a right to.

Suddenly, Caleb appears in my sight, running up to me. The "gang" as Zeke calls it, parts for him and he rushes to me.

"Hey, Tris, are you okay? I heard you got beat up by some bully," he says, concerned, patting me down.

"Oh damn. Bruise here, cut there – are you _okay_ , Tris? Talk to me!"

I can't. Caleb has a _girl_ next to him.

I can't take my eyes off her. She's tall and blond. She looks pretty dignified too, and she wears a neat, tight blue dress that looks good on her.

"Oh, hey, Cara!" Will rushes over to the girl.

"Hey, Will." The girl, apparently named Cara, turns to me. "And Tris. I've heard so much about you," she says, her voice emotionless.

I nod hesitantly. "I'm pretty sure they were bad things, weren't they?" I ask, trying to find my voice.

"Well, yes," she laughs, like it's funny. "By the way, I'm Will's older sister - and Caleb's girlfriend."

I round on Caleb. "You have a _girlfriend?_ " I ask accusingly. "How could you?"

"Oh, I forgot to tell you about her!" he says lightly. "We became friends on the first day of school and – you know, _more that that_ – the next week. I thought you knew. Silly of me." He smacks his forehead, nervousness evident in his tone.

Suddenly, Zeke taps me on the shoulder. "Look, Tris's brother, we gotta go. C'mon, people."

To my _huge_ relief, Zeke leads my party out of there and we head to lunch.

 **Hope you people enjoyed. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review! It means a lot to me, and I work kinda hard on these chapters. Have you noticed there are practically no typos in this story? I mean, of course there are a few, but still, not many, right?**

 **Be brave.**


	12. Chapter 12

**SpingleFan: Thank you so much! I really appreciate the love. This isn't a typical environment, that's for sure. Thanks for reviewing!**

 **Brokenwings35: Thank you very much! I hope this chapter pleases you!**

 **. .Fanfiction: Thanks! I try my best. If you have any suggestions, just let me know.**

 **And without further ado, Chapter 12!**

The cafeteria.

It's big. It's loud. It's busy.

Like New York.

The walls are painted cream-colored, like all the other walls in the school, and the scent of lavender and vanilla is even stronger in here. There are rectangular tables in the center and round tables next to the walls of the room. The food line is to the left when you walk in the big double-doors. The nerds, new kids, and probably victims of bullying sit in the corners, and the round tables only seat six each, while the rectangular tables seat eight or nine. No one sits at the rectangular tables yet.

The boys get in front of me and the girls behind me in the food line. Surprisingly, the food looks actually pretty good. It's mac and cheese and fries with garlic salt, along with some salmon on crackers. There are bottles of apple juice and, surprisingly, iced tea, which I've never seen before at any of my previous schools in their cafeterias.

I grab a bit of everything.

"Yeah, Roth High has the best food," Christina comments to me. She's standing directly behind me. "But just wait until dessert."

I put my plate on a tray, slide it across to the end where the drinks are, and grab an iced tea. It's actually lemon iced tea, which looks really good.

When I finish, the boys in the gang are waiting for me. We all wait for the other girls to get their food and then, surprisingly but not actually so surprising, I'm led to the very center table.

Zeke sits closest to the exit, like he's going to bolt at the first sign of danger. Shauna sits next to him, and then Uriah. Marlene sits next to Uriah, and Lynn sits next to Marlene.

On Zeke's other side, Four sits, then Christina, then Will.

Christina gets up and pulls over a chair for me to sit in. She puts it between her and Four.

"Are these permanent seats?" I ask, trying not to let any horror show in my voice.

Christina nods. "Yeah."

I want to scream, but gingerly I say, "Thank you," and sit next to her, leaning as far away from Four as possible.

Immediately, the whole table explodes into talking. Zeke has an especially loud voice, and apparently it doesn't matter to him that he's chewing food.

"All right, guys, who's in for truth or dare at my place tonight?" he says excitedly.

Everyone says something more or less like, "I'm in!"

Except for me. I just sit there, kind of awkwardly.

Christina squeezes my shoulder. I jump with the contact. I'm not used to people touching me that way.

"OMG, Tris, you have _got_ to come!" she squeals excitedly. "You'll have _so_ much fun!"

Lynn speaks up. "Chris, I don't really think Tris is welcome at our parties. I mean, she's a target for Peter and his gang, and there's a lot of tension between her and Four. It'd make things awkward."

For once, there is total silence at the table. Then Zeke speaks up. "Lynn, when has Four _not_ made things awkward?" he says, and suddenly the whole table erupts in noise again, recounting how Four hadn't taken his shirt off for truth or dare, and everyone wanted him to but they were too scared to make him, and when he had practically almost literally killed Shauna when he had caught her making out with Zeke before their relationship was official yet and he hadn't known.

The stories go on and on until Christina hollers, "Shut it, gang!"

Immediately, everyone shuts up and she says, "Guys, we're straying from the point here. Fact is, people are disagreeing on whether Tris is welcome at our parties. You know what I think we need?"

Everyone suddenly brightens, and I look around, confused. They all communicate something silently, then all look to Will. He sighs, rolls his eyes, and leaves the table.

"You guys are creepy," I announce, and everyone laughs.

"Yeah, that's kinda our thing. But you had crazy friends back where you lived, right? I mean, everybody does," Uriah says.

That reminds me – Susan. As if on cue, my phone buzzes and I freeze.

"Gotta take this one," I say, and yank out my phone. From the lock screen, I see the number 203 on it, which means Susan has sent me 203 messages, and below that, the number 407, which means she's called me 407 times, and she's calling me right now.

I slide to answer.

"OMG, thank heavens you answered, finally!" Susan sounds exasperated, worried, and angry at the same time. "Where the hell have you been, sis?"

"Hi, Su," I say heavily. I hadn't called or texted Susan in, like, a month. I'd totally forgotten about her. I feel so bad.

"Tris, come on! I thought we were friends," Susan says, and now she just sounds mad. "Friends don't leave each other hanging for a month."

"I'm sorry, Su, I was in the hospital," I say weakly.

"Tris, being in a hospital doesn't cut it!" Susan pauses, then says a little nicer, "Well, are you okay? What happened?"

I glance at Four. He's pointedly not looking at me. Even though I'm not on speaker, I think he knows what Susan asked me anyway.

"Yeah, I'm fine. A boy in homeroom twisted and broke my hands, and long story short, I kinda stayed in the hospital for a long time," I say.

"OMG! Why'd he do that?"

"He, uh, well, um, he kinda took my seat and I wanted it and I punched him and he blocked me, and told me to stop, and I didn't, so he did it out of self-defense."

"Oh, you poor sweetie!" she says. "I am gonna crush him if I ever see him! Wait" – she stops. "Is he a hottie?"

I blush madly. "Uh, I don't know."

"Oh, honey, did you blow your chance with a handsome guy?" she asks, sounding sympathetic.

I sigh. "Look, Su, I really gotta go. I'll call you tonight, OK?"

"No, don't you dare hang up on me," she says sharply. "Tris, I want to talk to you! I miss you! Did you backchat any teachers yet? Take some pictures and send them to me. I'll post them on my social platforms for you. Man, I was worried! I checked your Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook, Twitter, and everything every day! Never do that again, Tris. I was seriously worried."

I freeze. Susan still thinks I'm a snobby little spoiled brat.

"Er – Susan, I gotta tell you something," I say, trying to muster up my courage.

"Yeah?" Susan sounds so expectant, so carefree.

I brace myself. "Su," I say weakly. "I'm not a spoiled brat anymore."

That just sounds weird.

Silence on the other end.

"Hey, Susan?" I ask, concerned.

No reply. "Susan, you OK?"

" _Susan?_ "

Nothing.

"Susan, if you're still listening, I'll call you tonight. I gotta go. See ya."

I hang up.

The gang is staring openly at me. Will is still missing, but everyone else has their eyes fixed on me.

"Hello?" I say nervously, trying to break the ice, and shoving my phone into my pocket.

Will suddenly returns, wobbling with nine huge plates of _something_ balanced on him.

Immediately, Christina jumps up and takes the plates. She dishes them out smoothly, sending one at a time sliding across the slick table to Zeke, then Shauna, then Four, then Uriah, and so on.

Finally, I get my plate, and see that it's chocolate cake.

"Guys, I'm not really a fan of chocolate cake," I say nervously.

Christina just laughs. "Oh, sweetie, you will be once you've tried Roth High's."

I sigh. "Whatever. I guess there's no arguing with the fashion expert."

I recall Hana telling me that she loves to shop, and immediately I regret it. Christina grabs my hand.

"OMG, I totally forgot!" she says excitedly. "We have _got_ to go shopping tomorrow! We can go in the afternoon, after school. I gotta say, girl, your clothes are not totally up-to-date."

I sigh. "Christina" –

Thankfully, she waves a hand. "Enough with the talking. Dig in!"

Tentatively, I take a bite of the cake. A million different flavors rush into my mouth. Rich, creamy layers of the brilliantly crafted dessert rush down my throat, and I taste mint and even a hint of vanilla, and is that – is that _lavender_?

I had no idea that lavender in chocolate cake could taste so good. In fact, I would think it tasted horrible. But this is tender and sweet, just the right amount, and oh, it's a miracle this thing could ever exist.

Oh. That must be why everything in the school smelled like lavender and vanilla, and it's even stronger in the cafeteria.

"All right," Zeke announces, spraying a bit of chocolate cake as he practically bellows what he's saying. "So, I think it's only fair that" –

"I think it's only fair to the rest of us if you wait to finish chewing before you talk," Shauna says gently, patting his shoulder.

We all laugh, and Zeke makes a pained look as he finishes chewing.

"Okay, _now_ can I talk?" he addresses Shauna. She frowns.

"No, wait – Yes, Zeke, _now_ you can!" she jokes.

"All right. So, as I was saying, I think it's only fair that we are a democracy. So we will vote on whether Tris will be allowed in the gang. That means full membership, like parties, shopping trips, vacation trips, table privileges in the cafeteria."

"Zeke, we're not that professional," Shauna says. Zeke makes a pouty face.

"I wanna look good for Trissy-poo," he says, and Shauna smacks him hard.

"Ow! Okay, okay! Sorry! I want to look _bad_ for Trissy-poo!" he says, clutching his shoulder. Shauna rolls her eyes.

"Anyway, so I'm going to declare this vote. All in favor of Tris joining the gang, raise your hands," he announces.

Lynn glares at her older sister as she begins to raise her hand, and reluctantly she lowers it. Christina's hand shoots up, as with Zeke's. Marlene announces, "I abstain."

"Fine," Zeke says.

Everyone looks at Four.

Slowly, very slowly, he lifts his hand into the air, and then, grinning, Uriah does the same.

Everyone erupts into cheering, and the boys lift me with their hands and carry me around the room. The nonpopular kids look at me enviously. I just smile and shrug as everyone who heard my "induction" claps and cheers, even including some of the lunch ladies.

Now I have true friends.

 **I hope you folks enjoyed this! I think next chapter will be truth or dare, but I'm not sure. I'll work on it. Please review or PM me with some great truths or dares! I'm open to most ideas! I'll give you readers probably at least a week to gather your thoughts and send them to me. Thanks!**

 **Be brave.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Kinda disappointed. I waited a while for some truth or dare suggestions. Got zero. But, I have three fairly long chapters waiting for you, so whatever. After that will be truth or dare. Really sorry I keep postponing it.**

 **Enjoy.**

I am put down at my seat. Lunch is almost over, but Christina taps me on the shoulder as everyone is calming down.

"Hey sweetie? Your lip gloss is smeared on your cheek. Let's go into the bathroom, we can check it out."

"Oh, I'll go too," Shauna says, standing up immediately, and Marlene jumps up.

"I have to go to the bathroom anyway," she says.

Lynn scowls and crosses her arms. I don't know whether I like her or not. She seems pretty nice to the other girls, but pretty rude to me. I don't really get it, but I can probably snoop around a bit and see what makes her tick.

I frown. "I can just do it myself, you know," I say, and Christina's eyes widen.

"Oh, no, sweetie, there's this great technique that I really want to teach you."

I shrug. "Sure."

Christina grabs my arm and I am pulled to the bathroom, which is right next to the cafeteria. Shauna and Marlene flank us like bodyguards.

As soon as I'm in, Shauna and Marlene block the door out. I glance in the mirror. My lip gloss is, surprisingly, still perfect, without a speck of food on it.

"Uh, I think it's okay, Christina. Thanks though. Girls, can I …?" I ask, gesturing to the door out.

Christina corners me into a wall. "Girlie, we need to talk to you," she says. Her face is a perfect poker face, and I can't help thinking that Four must have taught her.

I shrug, trying to appear unconcerned, but honestly, I am freaking out right now. "Yeah, what is it?"

"What happened with that phone call?" she asks, and I have to think hard for a minute to think what phone call she's talking about, and then I remember.

"Oh! That! Yeah, I was just talking to my best friend in Maine, Susan. She was kinda mad because I hadn't contacted her in, like, a month because I was in the hospital."

"You have a best friend in Maine?" Christina asks.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I think she's my best friend. She's been kind of snappy lately."

"Did you tell her about us?"

I think back. "Well, I definitely told her about Four" –

"You _what?_ " Christina's voice is deadly.

"I, uh, I told her about Four," I say, shaking inside. "How he, uh, hospitalized me."

Christina looks horrified. "Did you tell him about how he flipped you and caught you and stopped himself from knocking you out?"

"I gotta think – er, no, I don't think so," I answer. "Why?"

"Listen to me, girlie. _Do not_ tell anyone about Four's abilities, or even talk about him anymore to anyone else, d'you understand?"

"Why?"

"Four is … well, he is not regarded very highly by the Chicago government. His father is very high in his positions, so I can't imagine why, but if word leaks out that Four does what he does, we will be in huge trouble. Got it?"

"How could Susan be a danger to us?" I ask, confused. "I mean, it's not like she could do anything about it, right?"

"Tris, how many social platforms does Susan have, and can she keep secrets?" Christina asks me.

I count. "Four, maybe five. Oh, no, six, she uses Linkedln. I think. Yeah? And, I _think_ she can keep secrets. Maybe not. She _did_ tell Ace Lingo, the star football player, that Courtney Flitter had a crush on him when she told her not to tell. But that was in sixth or seventh grade."

Christina raises her eyebrows. "Listen to me, sweetie. You go out there and you talk to Susan, but you do _not_ tell her _anything_ about Four, do I make myself clear?"

Christina's gaze is serious, almost deadly. I waste no time in giving a quick nod of my head, wanting more than ever to collapse on my comfy bed and drown the world out with Taylor Swift.

"Okay!" Christina's suddenly bright and happy, like she usually is. Marlene and Shauna part, letting me exit, and then go behind me as I march back to our table.

"Guys, I know you won't like this, but the party tonight is gonna be a dry one. We can't get hangovers, there's school tomorrow," Zeke's telling everybody as we resume our seats, even though there's only, like, two minutes left of lunch.

"Wait, you guys do underage drinking?" I ask, shocked. I've never drunk before and I don't want to start now.

Uriah raises his eyebrows. "We only drink sangria, with extra fruit juice. Mom doesn't like it when we have beer."

"I've never drunk before," I ask, worried, voicing my previous thoughts.

Uriah laughs darkly. "Well, thanks to my idiot brother, he forgot to go buy it, no matter what his excuse is. And Hana chaperones us back to our house the night of the parties, because she leaves us alone when we have them and she says she wants to 'spend time with us.'" Uriah rolls his eyes. "So no alcohol tonight, Tris, don't worry. Mom is pretty nice, but sometimes she is just a little too smoochy-moochy."

He turns to Zeke. "Zeke, she said this morning in homeroom that 'you never put us in a room together.' Wanna give Tris a demonstration?"

Zeke wiggles his eyebrows. "May the handsomest man win."

Suddenly, Uriah darts over to the lunch line and grabs some salmon from the crackers like lightning. The lunch ladies run to the kitchen, I suppose because they know what's going to happen.

"Tournament in one! Two! _Three!_ " All the other kids scatter to the walls as Uriah and Zeke bow gravely. Zeke hasn't seen Uriah steal the salmon yet. As soon as Zeke says three, Uriah launches the salmon in his eye. The salt stings Zeke and he howls, and retaliates by splashing water in his little brother's face.

Uriah splutters and splashes some of the remainder of the glass's on Zeke's crotch, where the two pant legs connect. Everyone laughs as Zeke clutches the freezing-cold area.

The girls, Will, and Four pull me out of the way.

"What's going on?" I yell above Uriah and Zeke's war cries.

"Food fight! They do it once a week!" Christina says loudly in my ear. "Soon Uri will call a join-in! Who're you rooting for?"

I hesitate. "Zeke," I finally answer. Zeke is really nice, plus he saved me from Peter.

"All right, me too. Shauna, Lynn, Marlene?"

"I'm going for Uri, obviously," Marlene answers.

"Zeke," Shauna says.

Lynn scowls again. "I'm gonna stay out here."

Suddenly, Uriah yells, "Join in!"

Immediately, the whole cafeteria divides themselves, some behind Zeke, some behind Uriah. Four goes with Zeke, Will with Uriah, and us girls go with our boyfriends, pretty much. Except for me.

I feel sorry for Uriah as I find an orange lying on the floor. I peel it quickly and squeeze the juice into his eyes as Christina distracts him. He howls and Zeke pounces, smearing chocolate cake all over him and sitting on him.

Lynn marches over and lifts Zeke's hand, declaring him the victor.

The whole school cheers, yelling, "Tris! Tris! Zeke! Zeke!"

I smile and wave a bit.

Suddenly, the bell rings. Immediately, everyone is scrambling up and rushing to the restrooms to wash out the food. Zeke and Uriah scowl playfully at each other. Four slings an arm across Zeke's shoulder and Marlene plants a kiss on Uriah's lips. Uriah looks like the happiest man alive.

The room is alive and bustling with noise, but suddenly, a deathly silence comes over the school.

Peter's advancing towards me, accompanied by Eric, Drew, and Al, and he does _not_ look happy.

 **Hope you enjoyed. Coming up in a few minutes, Chapter 14.**

 **Be brave.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Bit of a filler chapter. My bad. The next two are real fillers, though, but truth or dare is next!**

"Tris, Tris," Peter says pleasantly. The pierced guy, Eric, shoves Peter aside.

"Hold it, Peter. I got this." Eric mimics Peter. "Tris, Tris."

I can't stop myself from laughing.

"You guys are weird," I say, doubling over.

Eric scowls deeply. "Beatrice Prior, you will shut the hell up if you know what's good for you."

Immediately, I stop laughing. I hadn't known how much being called Beatrice was painful, but I wince. "Eric, please not the Beatrice" –

Eric smiles evilly. "Let our friend Al spend some time with you, Tris. Then maybe we'll lay off you."

I know what this means. "No _way_ , Eric!" I look at Al. His eyes look hungry as they rake down my body.

"I was harmed physically once, I'm done with the other kind!" I say, forcing the words out.

"Listen, Tris. Everyone hates you. No one puts up with you. You're pathetic. Worthless."

He spits the words out and I cower, realizing what he says is true.

"No one will miss you when you're gone," Eric says softly, poison lacing through his words.

He's right. I _am_ a loser. I am nothing. I have pushed around my friends and family for years and years, and they let me, but I hurt them. I hurt every single one of them and I am ready to die.

I can't take it any more. I just can't. I see my family's faces swarming in front of my eyes. They look betrayed, terrified of me. Obedient doormats. Pushovers. I did that to them. I made them scared to even talk to me.

I don't deserve to be alive.

I can feel a change pass over my face and Eric smiles again. "Listen to me, Tris. You will go with Al. He will do what he wants with you, and then you will do what you want with you, right?"

I nod numbly. I deserve _this_ , to be sexually harmed and broken. I deserve it. I am a terrible person.

Al beckons to me. His eyes glitter evilly. I follow him, taking one tiny step as the whole cafeteria gapes at me.

Then I realize what's happening. I am about to _give_ myself to Al. I have always had a fear of _it._ I can't do it now!

My legs collapse uncontrollably. Visions swarm before my eyes, and the dreams from the hospital echo in my ears. I remember kissing Four's lips in the third dream, I remember him harming me, I remember me shouting meanly at my mom and Caleb, I remember so many things –

Enough. Enough. Eric is shouting, the world is spinning. Al tries dragging me, but –

Suddenly there is a flash of someone jumping onto Al, and they are wrestling, but the figure knocks him out with one solid punch. Next goes Eric and Drew, then finally Peter. Peter cowers and whimpers, and then he too is knocked out and topples to the floor.

The knocker-outer brushes his hands off and offers a hand to me. My vision is still dizzy, so I can't tell who it is, but suddenly my head feels clear. It's okay. The danger is gone.

And as my vision comes into sharp focus, I realize –

My rescuer is Four.

He puts his hand on my forehead and the contact makes me tingle with electricity shooting down my body.

"All right, you don't have a fever. Are you feeling nauseous, Tris?" he asks, seeming even _concerned_. I don't get it.

"No," I answer.

"Good. Christina, take her to class. Tell whatever class she's at's teacher what happened. Will, come with me."

Christina takes my hand. I shake it off.

"How _could_ you?" I ask bitterly. "What took you so long in rescuing me? And why did _Four_ have to rescue me?"

Christina smiles. "My boyfriend, Will, is the smartest guy alive. We had to, Tris. We had to wait. I'm sorry. Will used his phone to video everything they told you. We had to be there to shield him from the bullies' view. I'm sorry. And anyway, Four is the only one who can knock out four muscled dudes at once, so he had to go. Listen, girlie, be grateful he saved you at all. He's a good guy, you know."

I scoff. "Yeah, right."

Christina frowns. "No, really, Tris, he is. You gotta cut him some slack."

I scowl back and march away, trying to forget everything that's happened.

But I can't. I just can't. Visions of what Al was going to do to me are swarming in my head because –

I have a fear of intimacy.

It's a huge one. It's my biggest one. That's why I almost never really curse, or say the "s word." And why I'm so uncomfortable kissing people – and why I cringe when I think about my dream.

When I think about it, I want to collapse. In fact, sometimes I do collapse. But there is nothing I can do about it when suddenly I just start shaking and I'm frozen in fear.

I go to my next class, trying to shake off that feeling that somebody is watching me.

School is over. I take my bag and my purse and sling them over my shoulders. Caleb runs up to me.

"Hey, Tris. Motorcycle ride?"

I shake my head, staring down at my shoes. "No thanks, Caleb. I'm going to walk."

He looks concerned. "You okay?"

I look at him. "Didn't you hear what happened?"

Somehow, I want him to, so I don't have to explain it and so he can explain it to Mom and Dad.

He frowns. "No, I was on a trip to a really cool museum. Why, what happened?"

Suddenly I remember something. "Go ask your _girlfriend_ , Caleb," I say bitterly. "I'm sure Will has told her."

Caleb looks shocked. "Hey, Tris. Look at me."

My gaze has fallen to the floor again, but I raise it so I can see him.

"Tris, Cara is a very pretty, intelligent young woman and I think that she is a great match for me. Now, if you don't like that, then deal with it. I won't criticize _your_ boyfriends, you know."

I snort. "I doubt it."

He raises an eyebrow. "Really? Anyone except Four, I'm good with."

"Why not Four?" I ask, suddenly interested.

"He's creepy. And he reminds me of the famous guy in the government – Marcus Eaton, I think. He's a really selfless guy and what bothers me is how much Four looks like him. Plus, he beat you up, sis. Why, do you _like_ him?"

I laugh a little. "Yeah, right."

"Whatever. Then I guess I have nothing to worry about."

For some reason, I'm disappointed. "Oh. See ya around, Caleb."

"You too," he says, and jogs off to his motorcycle.

I want to cry. It's one of those funny moments when tears well up in your eyes because you've been under a lot of stress lately, but nothing bad has just happened. I get these kinds of things a lot, and race to the bathroom to reapply my makeup. Sometimes, that calms me down, carefully designing my face so it looks perfect.

Plus, there are some after-school activities here, so it's not like the school's closing for the day.

I head to the bathroom and go in front of the mirror. I wash my face out, then dry it and reapply my typical lip gloss, some nude eye shadow, and mascara. Then, because I'm in the mood, I put a little blush on and some eyeliner. I keep them in my purse just in case.

Suddenly, Christina walks in. I haven't seen her since lunch.

"Hey, girlie," she greets me. "Saw Caleb leave on that sweet ride of his just now. You not going with him?"

"Nah," I answer flatly.

"Oh, OK." Christina doesn't seem in the least daunted by the fact that I am making it clear that I _really_ don't want to talk to her. "Four's here, by the way, along with Zeke. They're about to leave, but Zeke wanted to talk to you."

I shrug. Zeke is the only one who I really want to talk to right now. He's a really nice guy.

"Oh, sure," I say. "Lead me to him."

Christina walks out and I follow her. She leads me to Tori's office.

Tori's sitting there, typing on her computer. "Oh, hi, Tris. Christina," she greets. "What're you here for?"

"Oh, we're here for Four and Zeke. We're bringing them home," Christina says.

" _What?_ " I demand. "Christina, you told me Zeke wanted to talk to me!"

"Well, yeah, but you never would have agreed to it. Anyway, after that, we're going shopping for some new clothes. You need to wear lots of layers for truth or dare."

I sigh. "Christina, you never end with the cunningness."

Tori raises an eyebrow. "Seriously, do I have to listen to you two chatterbox for an hour out here?"

Christina raises her hands. "No, Tori, you go ahead."

She sighs and rolls her eyes. "C'mon back, kids."

"Principal Jeanine Matthews is your other teacher Ms. Matthews' mother," Christina tells me. "Why they have the same name, I can't fathom. But remember, call the Principal 'Principal Matthews' or she'll get pretty pissed."

I nod.

Tori knocks. "Principal Matthews?"

"Come in," a voice says.

Tori opens the door and gestures for us to go in. We do, looking nervously around. At least, I do. Christina's eyes are fixed dead straight ahead.

A woman with short, straight blond hair is scribbling something furiously on a piece of lined paper. Her eyes are a dark blue like Four's, but they have no light in them, they're just dark.

She looks up. "Christina, Tori, Beatrice. Welcome."

I stiffen when she says my real name.

Principal Matthews notices. "Well, Beatrice, what do you prefer?"

"Tris, please," I say sharply.

The principal ignores me. "Christina, the people you are looking for are where they've always been. Tori, did you finish the paper we're working on?"

"The press conference is tonight, what do you think?"

Principal Matthews frowns. "All right, satisfactory. You may go. Tori, next time, a politer tone, please."

She turns to me. "And, Beatrice Prior – _Welcome to Roth High._ "

Before I can make a snobby comeback, Christina grabs my arm and drags me through a hallway behind the principal's desk. Christina is seething.

"Damn, I hate that woman," she says in barely contained rage. "She's practically the queen of everything. Her husband is the police chief, so she can practically do whatever she wants with us. She mainly leaves us alone, but when she can, she picks on us."

"What do you mean? I mean, sure, she was kind of rude, but she wasn't _that_ bad," I say.

"She eats away at you gradually. Once you've been at Roth High for a year or so, you'll know what I mean. Now, let's shut up before we're heard. The principal suspends people often if she hears them badmouthing anyone – especially her. Shush!"

I follow Christina down a dark hallway. Finally, it ends, and she chooses the door on the left. I've noticed at Roth High, whenever a hallway ends, there's always a door on the right and on the left.

The room we enter is dark. There is the sound of keyboards clicking as users type quickly on them, and only some yellow light from lamps around the room enable us to see.

Christina walks briskly forward, over to two people with their backs hunched over a screen.

"Hey, Four. Zeke," she says. "Time to go home."

Immediately, Zeke turns around. "Hey, Chris. What's up, Tris? Four, buddy, gotta go."

Four turns around also. He looks at me and stiffens. "Christina, are you taking us home with _her?_ "

Christina raises her eyebrows. "Unless you want to walk, Four."

The walk to and from school is about fifty minutes. Four scowls.

"Hang on. I just need to finish this," he says, and turns back to the computer. I come around and see he's watching an empty hallway on the screen and typing in some commands.

"What's that?" I ask nervously, trying to make some conversation.

"Security cameras. Jeanine put us in charge of them." Four is curt and brief.

"How come?" I ask, interested.

"Technology's kind of my thing," he answers. "Well, also self-defense and exercise and stuff, but my job is with tech. I program the cameras so they record all the parts of the school at night."

"That's cool," I say and recoil. "No it's not. It's terrible. Stupid. Let's get going."

I quickly move to stand next to Zeke. He ruffles my hair affectionately, and I lean into him the way I long to do with Caleb.

Four clicks the last letter and shuts the program down. "All right, I'm done. Christina" –

"Yup, we're going in my Ferrari."

We exit the school quickly and drive Four and Zeke home in Christina's incredible car.

 **Oh yeah! Ferraris all the way! Long chapters all the way too! See y'all later and please write a review!**

 **Be brave.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Yo. Sup. Please review!**

Christina is a crazy driver.

She will drive anywhere, any way. She swerves, dips, and makes sharp turns easily, giggling as she does. I yell at her when she almost crashes into a Honda Odyssey.

"Christina, careful!" I tell her, laying a hand on her shoulder. For some reason, the boys immediately moved to the back when we got in. Christina had raised an eyebrow. "Girl policy. Enough girls to sit up front, they get to," she had whispered.

So now I was riding in a sweet Ferrari almost crashing into every car we see.

Christina laughs crazily. "Oh yeah!" She spins the wheel expertly, narrowly dodging another car. Immediately, a police car's siren whirs and Christina sighs. "Oh well."

She pulls up on the side. The policeman stops his car too and walks over to her. Christina rolls down her window.

"Do you know why I pulled you over, ma'am?" he asks.

Christina sighs. "Seriously, man, 'course I do. No idiot is _that_ dumb. Go tell your chief that us citizens don't take any of your crap. Just give us the freakin' ticket and we'll be off."

The policeman raises his eyebrows. "Ma'am, we have strict policy on no speeding on these streets. You were going fifteen over, and you were also nearly killing people. What's with all the spinning and the wild-driving?"

"I'm sorry, Officer. Now, how much is the ticket?"

"Fifty dollars," the dude sighs, handing the ticket over and marking it down in a little black notebook. "Keep in mind, I'm going easy on you. I might not next time."

Christina handed the money over wordlessly, _in cash_.

"All right, great. I'll be off then," he says wearily. "Drive safely, you hear me?"

"Yeah," Christina says, turning on her car. The policeman jogged over to his car and began driving smoothly.

Christina put her foot on the gas and we shot off.

Suddenly Zeke shouted, "Chris, could you stop by a market and get some sangria _please?_ "

"No, you moron," Christina says. "Tris doesn't drink."

I sigh. "Really, Chris, it's fine."

"Oh, shut up, you pure girl," she says jokingly and turns the car onto a side lane.

"Christina, you can, um, drop me off at Zeke's house," Four says. Christina raises her eyebrows but nods.

"Sure thing, Four. Zeke, remember to set up the party. It'll be in two hours. I gotta buy a nice dress for Tris to wear to it, okay?"

"Oh, sure. Fine," he says, sounding annoyed. "D'you drink soda, Tris?"

"Yeah, mainly ginger ale," I say.

Suddenly, Christina stops the car. "We're here," she announces.

I look at the house and gasp.

It's _enormous_. Six stories tall, it looks like it covers two acres of land. It is made of cream-colored shingles and the lawn is green and flowery and has a wild, uncared-for look.

"Wow," I say. It's the only thing I _can_ say. This is the best house I've ever seen, to tell the truth.

The boys open the door and jog out. Quickly, Christina backs out of the humongous driveway and we shoot off.

"Where're we going?" I ask.

"Shopping," is her brief reply. She swerves into the left lane and rockets down at sixty-five miles per hour.

"Chris, that's a little fast," I say, wobbling in my seat.

"Oh dang, Tris, what's driving without a little fun! Anyway, the speed limit's sixty. We're not going _too_ over."

"Chris, police car," I warn. Immediately she slows down, and the police car turns onto another street.

We're now going forty-five. Christina drives like she's gone on this route a million times, which she probably has.

In about fifteen minutes, we arrive at the mall. It's my first time here. Christina parks easily in the closest spot to the elevators and gets out, grabbing my hand and pulling me with her.

"Where should we go first … oh, I know! Let's go to the dress store," she says excitedly and we head up in the elevator to the mall, and then ride the escalator to the dress store.

As soon as we enter, I hear soft music playing in the background. Christina squeals and drags me over to a rack.

"Tris, how's this?" she asks, grabbing a sleeveless white silk dress and putting it in front of her so I can see how it looks on her.

"Sure, if you're going to a wedding," I answer. "Here, try this one."

I'm not big on fashion, but I sense this one is perfect for Christina. It's cream-colored, matching the Pedrad House and the school. One shoulder will be bare, and it is thigh-length. Pretty swirls and designs coat where the breasts will be, and it is backless.

Christina smiles. "Perfect."

She slings it over her shoulder and suddenly shouts, "OMG Tris! I found the perfect dress for you!"

She pulls it out, and I gasp.

It's a beautiful deep purple color. White designs run down the sides. It will go down to my knees, simple and pretty.

"OMG! Wear some three-inch black heels with that and a chunky gold belt and you'll look fab!" she says. "D'you have a chunky gold belt?"

"No," I say hesitantly.

"That's okay," she says immediately. "I can lend you mine. Now, heels. You have heels, right?"

"Yeah. I was also thinking, like, a white cardigan on top. That'd be pretty."

"Yeah, and then you can borrow one of Caleb's leather jackets! You'd look so cool!"

"Nah, that wouldn't look good," I say nervously.

"Well so what, you need layers! You should also wear, like, some kind of black tights that can be removed easily if necessary, for more layers. Ooh, and I'll do your hair! It'll be beautiful! Now, let's go to the dressing room."

Christina goes first. When she comes out, she looks beautiful. Attractive, too. She asks anxiously, "How does it look?" and twirls.

"Beautiful, Chris," I answer honestly.

Then I go in. I slip into my dress easily and find a beautiful white cardigan hanging on a hook, just by coincidence. I put my arms through the sleeves and step out.

Christina gasps. "OMG, Tris. That must be the best thing I have ever seen."

I smile. "You like it?"

"I love it!" she says excitedly. "Now, let's change back and go to the next store."

I frown. "What about paying?"

"You'll see," she smiles. I smack her and we both change back into our regular clothes. We bring the items to the paying counter.

"Carrie Kravitz," Christina says, handing the items to the employee. "I'm Christina."

The employee checks the labels on the clothes. "You're Christina Kravitz?"

"Yeah."

"Passcode?"

"HashtagMom'sFreeClothesRock,899BBC," Christina says quietly, so only I and the employee can hear.

"Free," the person says, and Christina takes the clothes and walks out.

I follow her, practically jogging to keep up. "What was that?" I ask.

"My mom is Carrie Kravitz. She's, like, top fashion designer in the country. I buy her clothes and get them free," Christina says. "It's a system. It's great. Mom likes it, she says it all adds up to her selling percentages. Let's go. Next stop, movies."

She leads me to a movie store. There are a bunch of TVs all over the place, along with thousands of discs. She selects a few. I lean over her shoulder.

"The Hunger Games. The Maze Runner. Lucy. The Fault in Our Stars," I read. "Really? We're watching four movies tonight?"

"No, the gang votes on two of them," Christina says, inspecting them. "Good. Let's pay."

We head over to the counter and Christina hands the lady standing there twenty bucks.

"Rented movies," she whispers to me and I nod.

"Keep the change," Christina says as she scribbles her name on the electronic machine. "No receipt." She grabs the movies and jogs out.

"Where to now?" I ask.

"Grocery store," Christina replies. She steers me to a mini grocery store and gets popcorn, dried mango strips, and thirty bottles of ginger ale.

We pay and head out.

"Where do we go now?" I ask her again, a bit out of breath from Christina dragging me everywhere.

"Nowhere," she says. "We're done shopping, we have to go to your house and get ready. I'll text Marlene, Shauna, and Lynn to meet us at your house. Mind if I give directions?"

"Not at all," I say. Immediately, Christina grabs her phone and texts the girls, who I see is in a group chat.

She glances up and adds my number to the chat. I don't recall giving it to her, but I realize now is not the time to ask.

My phone buzzes, signaling it has received Chris's texts. I smile.

"Let's go home," I say.

 **Sorry for the sucky filler chapter.**

 **Be brave!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Once more, a filler. But just go with it and review - truth or dare is up next. Again, any more T &D suggestions are still appreciated, so drop a review or PM me, I don't care.**

 **Enjoy the chapter.**

For some reason, Christina drives carefully back to my house. "Ginger ale will crack," she explains as she turns calmly onto my street. Again, I don't know how she knows where my house is, but she does and steers right up to it.

"The girls are probably not here yet," she says. "We can go to your room and set things up."

Christina parks the Ferrari in my driveway and we get out. I unlock my front door. We step in.

"Tris, you here yet?" I hear Caleb calling from the kitchen.

"Yeah," I call back. "Some friends of mine are going to be here. Don't pay any attention to them."

"Oh, don't worry. I have a friend over too."

"Who?" I ask curiously.

"Cara," he says hesitantly. I roll my eyes as Christina gives my shoulder a squeeze.

"Go with it, sis," she whispers to me quietly. "Now, where's your room?"

"Over here," I say. I lead her up the stairs and to my room, carefully opening the handle and leading her inside.

My room is fancy yet delicate. Christina oohs and aahs. I laugh at her, then jog over to my window to close the curtains so we can have some privacy.

Suddenly, a car pulls up. It's a fairly nice blue-silver Porsche with a bunch of bumper stickers advertising so many things, I can't name them all.

"They're here."

The girls enter my room. Marlene and Shauna are wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and Lynn is wearing a goth black shirt and pants with gold shoes.

"Lynn, are those your clothes for the party?" Christina asks, deflated, and Lynn nods. Shauna and Marlene have outfits slung over their arms.

"You got a problem?" she asks threateningly.

"You OK, Lynn?" Chris asks, worried.

"Well, no I'm not OK!" Lynn explodes. "Why the hell do we have to go all the way over here to Tris's place when we could just go to yours! You know, Tris may not be all the way nice yet. I heard what she said to Hana. Poor Hana! If I tell Uriah and Zeke, they'll beat Tris up."

Christina's eyes narrow. "Listen, Lynn, Tris is part of our friendship now. If you don't accept that, get out."

Lynn scowls. "I'm doing my makeup. Anyone who talks to me will seriously get a punch in the face."

She grabs her makeup bag and walks snobbily into my closet, realizes it's not the bathroom, and tries to recover by marching out smartly. She bangs into a wall.

We giggle.

" _Gaah!_ " Lynn punches the wall and marches into my bathroom.

"Well, that was interesting," Marlene says after a long pause.

Unsure what my instincts are telling me to do, I hug Christina. "Thanks for sticking up for me, Chris," I tell her. She smiles.

"I know you're not the same person you always were. Lynn is just sometimes a little grumpy. Now, let's get moving. Marlene, Shauna, change into your outfits. Tris, you too. I'll do your makeup, too. Honey, I gotta say, your makeup is not the best when you apply it."

I want to retort, but suddenly realize it and swallow my negative thoughts. "OK. But you can never make me look pretty."

"Who said I was going to make you look pretty? I'm going for noticeable," she says, handing me my dress. "Now skedaddle. I'm going to change into my dress."

"Shauna, Marlene, there are bathrooms at the end of the hall. I'll use Caleb's bathroom. Chris, you can use my parents'. Once Lynn is done, we can apply makeup in mine," I instruct. "And Chris, since I don't think you brought any extra makeup, we can borrow my mom's. She doesn't mind."

"No, it's OK. Shauna and Marlene have their own makeup styles and I have my items in their car. You can borrow some of mine, but no lip gloss. Anyway, I like your gloss. Let's get started. Guys, do what Tris said. Meet you back here in five."

Us girls all run off to our respective places. In five minutes, we're all back in my room.

I gasp. Marlene is wearing a beautiful purple dress, similar to mine. A kind-of strap is sewed beneath her breasts, and there are many folds and frills to it.

Shauna is wearing a deep red dress. It's very pretty, with a zippered back and a bow around the waist with the ends falling down. **(To those who actually want to see what the dresses look like, go to the bottom of my profile. There are links. I suck at describing clothes, sorry.)**

Christina is wearing her dress, and I am wearing mine, along with the leather jacket and shoes.

"Now let's do makeup," Christina says, after all of us have observed each other critically and found nothing to be opposed to.

Christina knocks on my bathroom door. "Lynn?"

Lynn swings open the door and is an inch away from delivering a hard blow to Chris's face with a clenched fist when she stops. "Oh, I thought you were Tris. Whaddya want?"

"Could we use the bathroom for our makeup please?" Christina asks nervously. "Please?"

Lynn groans but gestures for all of us to come in. My friends gape at my huge bathroom, but I wave it off.

"Shauna, go get my makeup and the gold chunky belt," Christina orders. "Lynn, I have an idea for your clothes."

"What is it?" Lynn asks, rolling her eyes.

"Tris," Christina says, raising her eyebrows at my leather jacket. "Any more of those?"

"Yeah," I say hesitantly. "They're Caleb's."

"Can you go get one?" she asks, and I nod.

"Sure."

I jog out of my room and down to the kitchen to Caleb, where I'm sure he'll be.

As I enter the room, I freeze.

Caleb is kissing Cara. Full on the lips. No holding back, they are mouth to mouth.

I scream.

They break apart, and I run over to Caleb and punch him as hard as I can.

" _WHAT THE HELL, YOU FRICKIN' IDIOT? WHAT THE CRAP IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU NO-GOOD DIRTY LITTLE BASTARD! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO GO KISSING EVERY FRIGGIN' GIRL YOU SEE!"_ I go on and on, ranting about how irresponsible he is, barely even noticing Cara standing next to Caleb _really_ awkwardly, shrinking down like she wants to sink through the floor.

Caleb finally shuts me up. "Shut up, Beatrice!" he bellows. I immediately silence and raise my eyebrows.

"Well?" I ask tauntingly.

"Cara and I are more than friends. We have our own relationship and I want you to butt out. The next time you criticize me about my girlfriend, I am throwing you physically, forcibly, out of this house. Do you understand?" Caleb's voice is deadly serious, and he is shaking with rage. Despite the fact that he's thin as a toothpick, right now he looks like he could follow up on his threat.

I nod. "Yeah."

"Now, what did you come down here for anyway?" Caleb asks, wrapping an arm protectively around Cara. She turns up her nose at me and looks away.

Suddenly I remember. "Oh, my friend wants me to borrow one of your leather biking jackets for her. Please?"

Caleb sighs. "Fine. They're in the closet."

"Thanks," I say shortly, and turn my back on them. "You can go back to your making-out now."

Then I run to the closet, grab one of Caleb's jackets, and run upstairs.

As soon as I go into my room all four girls are staring at me, arms crossed.

"All right, that's it, sister. What was all that racket downstairs?" Christina asks, eyes boring into mine.

I scowl. "Just Caleb making out with Cara," I say, and Christina's eyes widen.

"Oh, Will is going to be _so_ pissed if I tell him," she says deviously.

"Don't you dare!" I say, only half joking as I fix one of my best glares on her. "Now, Lynn, I have a leather biking jacket for you. Put it on." I throw it at her chest forcibly. I am _not_ in a good mood right now, especially with her and Caleb.

"Does everyone have makeup?" I ask sharply. Christina nods.

"Yeah. Tris, come into the bathroom with me. I'm going to help you. D'you mind if we take the sheets off your bed?"

"No," I say cautiously.

Christina nods. "Shauna, Marlene?"

They rip my lowest sheet off my bed and haul it into my bathroom. I watch as they expertly pin it across my wide – and tall – mirror.

"Good. Now you can't see until we're done," Chris says. "Come on."

Christina brings out tons of different shades of makeup. First she applies my lip gloss. "We'll apply another coating at the end," she says. Then she applies foundation to me, then three different shades of blush.

"They're going to blend in well," she explains.

Eyes next. I close my eyes while she applies eye shadow, and then mascara, and then eyeliner. She tells me to open my eyes, and I comply.

She sprays a little perfume onto me and frowns in concentration. "Now hair," she says and brushes my hair until it shines. Then she splits my hair into three groups and sprays leave-in conditioner into it. Expertly, Christina braids my hair, focused in concentration as she curls some misbehaving strands with her hands and lets them go free.

Finally, she twists the braid onto my head in an elaborate fashion, her deft fingers exploring my hair and gathering bits and parts to create a beautiful, tight bun while letting rogue stray hairs run wild.

"Now you're done," she declares, and Marlene and Shauna smile at me. Lynn just crosses her arms and scowls again. She really is big on scowling.

"Unveil the mirror, please," Christina says professionally, and once the sheet is removed, I see myself.

I am not pretty. I am noticeable. My eyes are surrounded by smoky fire and my cheeks are a light red, matching my eyes. My hair is incredible, the workmanship flawless.

Christina smiles proudly. "Now that's what I call a good job."

I hug her tightly, all my negative feelings washing away with the sight of myself. "Thank you, Chris."

She smiles wider. "Of course, Tris. Now it's Shauna and Marlene's turn. They can do it themselves. The party's soon, we better get going."

"No, wait for us!" Marlene and Shauna plead. Lynn just leans against my shower casually.

"Lynn's makeup needs to be done too," Shauna suddenly says, and Lynn glares at her older sister.

"I'm done with makeup," Lynn says crossly. I examine her face. She's only used a bit of black blush and black eye shadow to make her look creepy, and it's barely even noticeable. But no one wants to argue with Lynn, so we just shrug.

"OK," we all say.

Shauna and Marlene quickly apply their makeup, and then we all look around at each other and stare.

"Damn, are we a bunch of hot girls or what?" Christina finally says, and we all agree.

"Let's go," she says. "Tris, Marlene, you ride with me. Shauna, you drive Lynn in the Porsche. Let's go."

And so, finally, we head out to the party.

 **Finally! Again, so sorry for the filling chapters. But at last, truth or dare will be next chapter.**

 **Be brave.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Really sorry for the late update. Got caught up in work and stuff and didn't have time to write everything down. But, I do have a fairly long chapter for you all, and it's truth or dare! Cliffy at the end, by the way. Also, please PM/review if you want me to include Four's POV!**

 **Don't want to waste your time, so here is Chapter 17.**

Christina drives me and Marlene to the Pedrad House. There are about thirty cars lined up on the street next to their house, and maybe even more. Christina spins the car into the driveway, where no one else is parked, and rolls along on the grass until a gray stone pavement can be found at the back. She follows the path to a huge shaded backyard. Lynn and Shauna's Porsche is already there. Christina steers the car into a chalked spot marked _C_.

"Special privileges?" I guess. Christina nods, smiling.

We get out of the car. Again, the house is ginormous. Christina knocks on the back door, which looks like it could host a car in its doorway.

Immediately, Zeke swings open the door and sweeps Chris into a hug.

"You're here! Finally!" he says happily. His voice is a little slurred.

"Zeke, did you find any alcohol?" Chris asks accusingly.

Zeke shakes his head, grinning crazily. "Hot sauce! Uriah poured it in my mouth when I wasn't looking!"

Christina rolls her eyes. " _How_ did that happen? Now, where's Will?"

"Over there," Zeke says, smiling. "He's controlling the music."

The place is huge. It's chock-full of people laughing, talking, dancing, drinking, and shouting. Incredibly loud music booms through hidden speakers. Taylor Swift's "Blank Space" is playing. I love this song.

"Hey Tris!" Zeke shouts after Christina runs off. "Will you dance with me? Like, sibling-dancing?"

I look around for Shauna and don't see her. "Sure, no prob. C'mon. Can Will change the music?"

Zeke smiles. "Oh yeah he can." Zeke grabs my arm and pulls me over to Will's station. Will has a pair of headphones clipped on, and Christina is drinking a ginger ale next to Will, her head on his shoulder. Apparently, someone unpacked the drinks from our car.

"Will, slow it down a bit!" Zeke yells. Will nods and hits a few dials on the huge layout of keys in front of him.

Immediately, the music is changed to a slow dance. Zeke grabs me again and pulls me onto the center of the dance floor and takes my arm. We dance a little quickly, feet stepping in time with the rhythm.

"Remember, this is just as brother and sister, not boyfriend and girlfriend," he whispers to me. I nod. Of course. Zeke has Shauna.

Soon the song ends. I jog off the dance floor amid cheers and grab myself a ginger ale. Popping the top, I drain half. I'm _really_ thirsty.

After I hang out a bit, I spot Four sitting next to the wall, listening to music with earbuds and doodling again. Seriously, he's obsessed with doodling.

Even though it's the last thing I want to do, I go over to him.

"Hey, Four," I say.

He ignores me.

"Four," I say, a little insistently. "I'm talking to you."

Still no answer. I feel a hand on my shoulder and spin around. It's Zeke again.

"What, Zeke?" I ask impatiently.

Zeke leads me away from the noise for a little bit. "Listen to me, Tris. Four's a good guy, all right? He may not seem like it, but you will have someone strong at your back all the time if you're friends with Four. He's not bad, actually. Just sometimes a little scary."

I reflect on what Christina told me earlier, too, about how Four wasn't all bad. "Zeke, I'm trying. But the truth is, I hate him. He's a rude, obnoxious little pig! I want nothing to do with him. I'm sorry, Zeke!"

Zeke nods a little. "Sure, I can understand that. Just … the thing is, Four voted you into the gang. But if he decides he doesn't want you in … you're out."

My mouth drops open.

"Look, people love Four. Our gang does, I mean. But it's a respectful kind of love. Our friends look up to Four. He's practically the leader. No one refuses him anything."

"So he's a spoiled brat, then," I say, my hate for Four growing even stronger.

Zeke shakes his head violently. "No, Tris! Listen. Four isn't the kind of person you can laugh with. He has a tough life, trust me. He felt terrible when he put you in hospital."

"He should," I say vehemently.

"Yeah, but he felt that you posed a threat. See, in Four's world, every challenge is a threat, even if it's a friendly challenge. You had to be taught your lesson. Tell me that you _weren't_ a spoiled brat, Tris." Zeke is serious, for the first time in his life probably, and I don't say anything. "He was just trying to help. He's saved you more than twice, Tris. You gotta trust him."

Zeke looks around. "All right, time for truth or dare," he says, changing the subject abruptly. Then he draws in a deep breath and bellows as loud as he can, " _ALL RIGHT! IF YOU ARE NOT TRIS, FOUR, SHAUNA, MARLENE, LYNN, CHRISTINA, WILL, ME, OR MY IDIOT LITTLE BROTHER, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW!"_

Immediately people begin filing out, laughing and talking and still drinking a bit. They don't seem in the least bothered by the fact they're being totally kicked out.

Zeke winked knowingly at me. "They all know what'll happen if they don't leave," he says. "Four once got ahold of Al, Peter's friend. Oh, man, it was messy. Al thought Lynn's head was a beach ball when Four was finished with him."

My eyebrows contract. "Do I really want to know what happened then?"

"No, I don't think you do," he says cheerfully. "Now come on. We play truth or dare in the center."

Without a hundred people in here, the house is almost totally empty. The "gang" finishes off our ginger ales and we all go over to the center of the humongous room and sit, in the order of where we sit at the cafeteria at school.

"All right, since you got to tell everyone to leave and called me an idiot brother, I'm going first," Uriah announced.

Zeke interrupts. "Wait a moment. Does everyone know how to play?"

"Well, vaguely," I say, because I know he's talking to me. "You do a truth or a dare, depending on which one you choose, right? And then … you take a layer of clothing off if you don't want to do it?"

Zeke nods. "Bingo. Although, Tris, you're not wearing much," he says, and I look down conscientiously. I'm wearing my dress, a white cardigan, and Caleb's leather jacket.

"What?" I say, horrified. "Do you think a lot of people are going to ask me stuff?"

He nods, barely containing his laughter. "We have a habit of picking on newbies. Christina, you didn't tell her?"

Christina smiles. "We have to break her in, Zeke. Get her used to the routine. No point if she's wearing a lot of clothes. C'mon, Uri, get started."

Uriah grins devilishly. "Tris, truth or dare?"

"It's custom to say dare for your first one," Lynn says evilly. "Or are you a coward?"

I glare at her. "You know what, I'll go with dare."

"Sit on Four's lap for the rest of the game," he challenges, and my eyes widen in horror.

"No, Uri! Please!" I say, looking at Four. A small smirk plays on the corners of his lips.

Uriah raises an eyebrow. "A dare is a dare. Hm?"

I sigh, defeated. "All right, you devil. I'll get you back for that," and Uriah looks slightly scared.

I move over to Four and sit gingerly on his lap. He leans forward a bit.

"Your turn," he says softly, his breath tickling my ear.

No contest. "Uriah, truth or dare?"

His eyes widen, like mine. "Never a pansycake, Tris!" he says.

I look around, confused. "What's a pansycake?"

"Uriah's favorite word ever. Basically means a coward," Marlene answers, and Shauna throws a pillow at Uri.

"Never gonna become popular again," Shauna says to Uriah, as he flicks it back at her. Shauna leans on it.

"Dare. So," I say, thinking of something suddenly. "Anyone have permanent hair dye?"

Shauna raises a hand. "For occasional purposes," she says defensively. "But it's not really permanent. If you want to get it out, you have to spend like three hours under the shower to get all of it."

"Uri, dye your hair pink with Shauna's dye," I command.

Uriah groans. "Damn! I should have given you an easy dare!" He groans again. "Pansycake or no pansycake?" he asks himself, tilting his head.

Finally, he throws his hands up. "I have failed," he announces. "I have a football game tomorrow. I am officially a pansycake." He looks so downcast, but everyone whoops and cheers. I get a bunch of high-fives.

"Nice one, Tris! Uri has never admitted it before, but now he has! Genius!" Zeke exclaims, practically hugging me. "Serves him right!"

Uriah looks like he's going to cry. "Screw you, Tris." He takes off his checkered shirt, leaving him in a white T-shirt and pants. "Christina, truth or dare?"

Christina considers it. "I hate your dares. Truth."

"Who was your first kiss?"

Immediately, Christina removes her stylish coat, leaving her in her dress.

Uriah's mouth drops open. "It wasn't me?" he asks numbly.

Christina looks around helplessly, but none of us make eye contact with her. "Er – well," she stutters, "it wasn't really a kiss, just brushing lips kind of," she says nervously.

"Who was it with?" Uriah is dead serious. He is having a bad game right here.

Christina hesitates. "I swore not to tell. Can we continue with the game, please?"

I nod. "Yeah, Uri, you only get one question. Chris, your turn."

She glances around the circle. "Zeke, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"Drink a bottle of hot sauce," she says unmercifully. "Hottest you got."

Uriah smiles, apparently totally forgetting his earlier "losses." "Ooh, Chris, tough. I'll get some." He runs over into the kitchen.

Zeke moans. "Christina, when have I ever been mean to you?"

"That time when you dared me to put my bra and underwear outside my shirt and pants and kiss Principal Jeanine Matthews's hand at her house," Christina replies swiftly. Yikes. I am never taking one of Zeke's dares.

Zeke can't help laughing. "Oh, man, that was funny! Wasn't it, Four? I think you videoed it," he says, chortling. I glance behind me. Four has a perfect poker face on. He looks like a statue, but his legs that I am sitting on are very warm.

Christina raises her eyebrow. "Listen, Zeke, the day you can prank me without me getting you back will be the day Uriah shouts to the world he is a pansycake and the day when Four smiles," she says. "Uri's taking a rather long time."

Suddenly, Uriah appears, holding a bottle of _Hottest Stuff Out There_. My eyes widen. It's supposedly the spiciest hot sauce in the world, mixed with jalapeños, peppers (I know, jalapeños are peppers, but I mean the other spicy kinds), cinnamon, and so many other spices and ingredients that apparently the toughest guy in the world threw up after eating a spoonful of it. It was on TV.

Zeke pales. "No! Uri, where'd you get that?"

Uriah smiles. "Christina told me her dare for you. I figured, why not take advantage of it? Zeke, whole bottle goes down. It's the dare! Plus, the sauce was a hundred dollars. So drink it down and make the money worth it!"

Zeke cowers. "Christina!" he begs, kneeling down in front of her. "I'm telling you, please! No!"

Christina raises her eyebrows. "That dare from you was the worst thing that ever happened to me," she says dramatically. "Revenge is a bitch, isn't it, Zeke?"

Zeke groans and takes one glance at _Hottest Stuff Out There_. His body convulses in fear. He is quite the dramatic one – but then, he has a reason.

Uriah grins happily, like this is the best thing ever.

Zeke looks at Uriah and suddenly nods decisively. "Let's show Uri how pansycake he is." He grabs the bottle from Christina, unscrews the top, hesitates, and then downs it in one long, continuous gulp.

Then he begins screaming. He runs somewhere else and vomits excessively. It goes on for fifteen minutes, retching and throwing up. I cower in disgust. Christina and Uriah look satisfied. They high-five each other.

"So much for not being a pansycake," Uriah snorts, and doubles over laughing.

Finally, Zeke returns, looking weary and sick. He fake-vomits over Uriah and Christina and returns to his seat, glaring at them.

"My turn," he says. "Four, truth or dare?"

"Dare," Four answers stoically.

Zeke thinks for a moment. "Don't doodle for the next whole month."

Four taps me. I stand up. With one swift movement, Four pulls his single shirt over his head.

I gasp. Four has _muscles_. They're huge and incredibly attractive.

Wait, _what?_

I _hate_ Four. He's a brat, a plain old stupid brat. His abs are not _attractive_.

But his stomach is lean and stretched, not an ounce of fat on them. His muscles bulge and you can see his veins on his forearms. He _is_ attractive.

He pats his lap. "Get down here, Tris."

Hesitantly, wanting to die, I sit down tentatively on his lap. I don't dare lean against his bare chest.

"Tris, truth or dare?" Four asks quietly.

I frown. I think I've learned not to take any more dares. "Truth."

"Pansycake!" Uriah says in a sing-song voice. I turn to look at him.

"Oh and you're not?" I ask, seeming offended.

Lynn shouts " _Burn!_ " and I look at her. She smiles slightly. "Sorry, Tris. But you know, it's not every day Uri is a pansycake," she says, a hint of warmth in her voice.

I turn back to Four. "Truth," I say again.

Four thinks for a moment. "Who do you _like_ , Tris?" he whispers against my ear.

I shiver and hope he doesn't see. "No one," I say loudly. "I don't like anyone that way, Four."

He raises his eyebrows. "Your turn, then."

I look around the circle. "Marlene."

"Dare."

I think of a really good one. "Lick the floor excessively, then kiss Uri for five full seconds."

Marlene looks horrified. "Oh hell no!" She pulls a jacket off, leaving her in her dress. Uriah looks relieved.

"Lynn, you know the question," Marlene says to Lynn. Lynn thinks.

"Dare."

"Write in permanent marker 'I am Tinkerbell' on your forehead," Marlene challenges evilly.

Lynn raises her eyebrows. "That's all you got? Fine. Who's got a permanent marker?"

Uriah scampers away and returns with pink. Lynn glares at him, but he just smiles devilishly.

"Marlene?" Lynn asks, and Marlene grabs the marker and draws carefully "I am Tinkerbell" on Lynn's forehead. When she's done, Lynn punches Marlene's shoulder and she releases the marker in surprise. It streaks down Marlene's dress, leaving a trail of pink.

Marlene gasps in horror. "What the hell Lynn?"

Lynn shrugs. "My bad."

Marlene scowls, but Lynn's scowls will beat anyone anyday, so she gives up. "Whatever. Let's continue."

"Shauna, you know the question," Lynn says to her older sister.

"Dare me, Lynn," Shauna says, all macho-like. Lynn thinks for a moment.

"Say all the curse words you know in forty seconds," Lynn says.

"Aw, really? That's it?" Shauna asks, disappointed. She names them all quickly.

Lynn scowls again. Wow, she is big on scowling. "C'mon, gimme a break. I couldn't think of any. C'mon, play more."

"Tris?" Shauna asks.

"Dare," I answer confidently.

Shauna grins. "Stand on your head for the rest of the game."

"I can't do that," I say. Shauna shrugs. Swiftly, I remove my leather jacket.

The game continues. I get dared and truthed so many times that I am now only in my bra and underwear. I didn't actually get asked a lot, but they were always impossible dares. I am incredibly embarrassed by my lack of clothing and I wrap my arms around myself protectively when my dress is taken off.

Christina's turn. She looks around at everyone, asking them a silent question, and I see nods from a bunch of people. Lynn and Shauna shake their heads strongly.

Christina shrugs. "Tris."

I hesitate. "Dare," I say.

Christina grins. "Damn, girlie. You fell for it. You fell for it hard," she says triumphantly. "Tris Prior, sixteen years old, at the Pedrad House, playing truth or dare with the gang, I dare you to kiss Four. On the lips."

My face grows hot. I glance down conscientiously at my bra and underwear. Then I look at Christina, silently pleading with her. She shakes her head pitifully.

I twist my head and look at Four. He stares back, poker-faced as usual. I can't read anything from his face. His body is tense, though, I can feel that.

I sigh, controlling myself. Why the hell did I ever get into this game of truth or dare? I think of Caleb. What would he want me to do?

I take another deep breath. "Guys, I gotta go."

Immediately, the whole group starts shouting. I stand up and put on my dress, shoes, and jacket.

"You can't go, Tris. You have to finish the dare. It's a rule," Christina says, staring pleadingly at me. I shake my head.

"Christina, you can't dare me to do something like that. If you guys are gonna make me kiss people I don't like, then to hell with your gang. I'm out."

I begin to walk away, but a strong arm grabs me. I spin around and see it's Four. He looks at me for a moment, then suddenly leans forward.

And our lips meet.

 **OMG. What's gonna happen? Sorry if you don't like this. I might do another truth or dare, too, but really I got zero reviews on what to do for T &D. I'm seriously considering stopping this fanfic because I don't think a lot of people are reading it. I might start up another one, though. Whatever. Don't let me bore you.**

 **Be brave.**


	18. Chapter 18

**And 18 is up, even if it's really short (500 words or something like that)! I'm only publishing this because a lot of people said they wanted Four's POV for Chapter 18 and I didn't want to delete the work I'd already started. So next chapter is Four's POV! Sorry for the confusion.**

I can't move, can't breathe. Our lips meet. This is no dream in the hospital, this is a real experience. I am floating on the ocean – but I can't determine whether the waves are cool, calm and beautiful, or choppy and stormy. I can't release my lips from his. They are locked together. His arms wrap around my waist and I put my hands in his hair, ruffling it. I don't know what I'm doing. I realize this is the cool, calm, beautiful ocean right now.

I am safe with Four.

Then suddenly I realize what I am doing. _I'm kissing Four!_ The teenager who is practically the only person I hate! What the hell am I _doing?_

I break away, gasping. I cough a bit, trying to get Four's smell off me. Caleb will freak out. I glance up at Four. He stares at me, and again, I can't read anything from his face.

Christina gapes at us. "OMG. I never realized that would …" she says, trailing off and not finishing her sentence, probably the first time she's done so in a long time.

The whole gang is just staring at us. Then, finally, Uri breaks the silence. "So, what, are you two like a thing now?"

My eyes widen. "Oh, no! I hate Four," I say, but it's kind of hard to convince even myself when I remember the kiss.

"Tris, you were just like making out full time," Shauna says. "Well, at least full time compared to me and Zeke." She glances over to him accusingly and he shrinks. "That little loser over there is the worst kisser ever."

"I really don't need to know any more information," I say. Then I glance at Four again. "Four, I … I hate you … don't I?"

Four shrugs. "Look in your heart, Tris," he says simply, those blue eyes looking at me steadily.

And so I do. I reach down deep inside of me and I search for the answer. Is Four, the coward, the pain-inflicter, do I really hate him? Or can I like him?

I sigh. "I don't know, guys. Let's just … watch the movies. Christina, you said we'd vote on them?"

"Yeah," Christina says, looking a little disappointed that we'd moved off her favorite subject – boyfriends and girlfriends.

"All right," Christina says, getting down to business. "We have the Hunger Games, Lucy, The Fault in Our Stars, and The Maze Runner," she says, reading the covers. The movie discs are next to her, waiting.

"All right, Hunger Games?" she says, and I see a bunch of people nod and stuff.

"Damn, it's been ages since I watched that," Lynn says. "Katniss all the way, huh?"

"Nah, Cato rules," Christina jokes. "C'mon, guys. Lighten up," she says, as no one laughs.

"Chris, that wasn't even funny," Zeke says suddenly. "Let's go. How 'bout we just watch Hunger Games and the Maze Runner, OK?"

Pretty much everyone nods. The situation has gotten pretty dull since Four kissed me.

I'm still in shock. I can't believe that Four would do such a thing. I'm not sitting on his lap anymore – I'm sitting very, very far away from him. I don't want to look at him but I do.

Four is smirking. The corners of his lips turn up and he gives me a glance. I can't read anything from his face but I know – oh, yes I know - that I will hate him.

Forever.

 **Or will she, because that is the question of the chapter! Let me know your thoughts. I'll try and put some ideas into my story, but I can't guarantee it. Just know that I'll give all good ideas a shoutout to their authors!**

 **Be brave.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Four's POV (there you go, folks, hope you enjoy)**

I look at her as we watch the movies. Her long, straight brown hair. Her stormy gray eyes. Her slender figure.

All these make up the girl who is named Tris Prior.

I do not know what to make of her. She has spirit. She used to be a spoiled brat. What is she now? I don't know. I don't think _anyone_ knows, including herself.

I try to watch the movies. But she keeps staring at me. When she looks, I can't tear my eyes away.

Why did I kiss her? That is the question. Why did I press my lips to hers? _Why?_ What came over me? I had felt angry. Yes, angry. But also frustrated, furious, and curious at the same time. Yes, they are different things. I had pulled her to me and kissed her, and for a moment she had been all mine, and I had been all hers. It had been sudden. I did not get time to enjoy it – but then, maybe I didn't _want_ to enjoy it. My emotions tumble.

When she looks at me, her eyes are filled with hatred. She had asked me, "I do hate you … don't I?" I had replied, "Look in your heart."

I do not know what is in Tris Prior's heart. Honestly I do not know. I think Christina might know. Possibly. Christina is in the middle of two relationships. She loves Uriah and Will. Marlene loves Uriah though. Christina and Uriah are more like siblings, but they are officially together even though I think they aren't happy. Will cries for her. I've seen it, during a boys' night last year. It was painful. I had sat there, poker-faced as usual while Zeke and Uriah tried to cheer him up.

I hope my relationships aren't as complicated as that.

But then, I don't _have_ relationships. I have kissed two girls before Tris, but never in an actual relationship. This is so confusing, and I want to writhe and scream. But, as Marcus has taught me, I conceal all my feelings, block out the noise, and think.

I think of many things. I think of love, and friendship. I think of parents who care. I think of the gang, who all love and respect each other. Then I think of Marcus, beating me when I do not come home before twelve o'clock at night. Saying it is for my own good, like it can be possibly selfless to whip your own child. Marcus Eaton is supposed to be a wise, selfless leader of his family. Tris Prior is supposed to be a mean, selfish leader of her family. But each are not what they seem, I think.

The movies finish. Katniss has not found her happy ending, nor will she when the three books/movies are finished. Is that going to be how my life is? Am I never going to have a happy ending? Suddenly, I think that as long as I have Tris Prior in my life, I _will_ have a happy ending.

Our gang gets up. A few people stretch. Lynn yawns a bit, then snaps her mouth shut like she is too tough to yawn. I know the feeling.

"I have to go home," I announce. I cannot be late. It is eleven thirty and I must hurry. "Can I have a ride to my house?"

Christina raises her hand. "Sure, Four, you can come with me and Tris. Lynn, Shauna, and Marlene will drive home together. C'mon, people, let's go home."

"For some reason, I thought we were sleeping over," Tris says to Christina. "I'm wrong, right?"

"Well, Four has to go home, and it wouldn't be polite to continue without him," Christina replies. Tris shoots me a heated glare, like I wanted that. I wouldn't mind at all if the gang continued the party without me.

"Typical," she mutters. "C'mon, Chris, where's the car again?"

Christina leads us to her red Ferrari. I think of Tris's brother's motorcycle. That was a pretty neat ride. I think of asking him if I can drive it one time. Then I realize that he hates me too.

Without a word, I open the back door and get in, not bothering to argue with Christina's policy of "girls sit in front." But Christina hesitates, then says, "Um, Tris, I have a lot of stuff to put in the passenger's seat. There's not enough room. D'you mind sitting back there with Four?"

Oh, Christina. Will she ever stop? Enough is enough, really.

Tris apparently has the same thoughts. She puts her hands on her hips. "Really, Christina. And what 'stuff'" – she makes air quotes with her fingers – "might you have that you didn't have on the way here?"

Christina frowns, then lights up. "Hold on!" she exclaims, and runs into the house again. Tris and I are left outside alone. Well, I'm in the car. Tris is standing next to the passenger's seat door. We stare at each other.

None of us say anything until Tris breaks the silence.

"You know, I don't know what the hell you were thinking when you kissed me, but I don't care about your big muscles. Next time you kiss me, expect a very hard punch in the gut. You _will_ see stars." She stares at me with such intensity I have to laugh. It's hard to imagine a tiny, unfit girl like Tris beating me up.

Tris raises her eyebrows. "Laughing, my dear Four friend?" She leans forward, eyes narrowing. "Let me tell you, I don't know who the hell you are either, but let me tell you, I will be looking you up at home because Four is a _fake name._ There must be a reason you're keeping it from everyone. Mind if I tell them?" Tris smiles sweetly, but her eyes are still narrowed.

I feel fury rising up inside me. "Really, Tris, if people could find out my real name, they would have earlier. Do you know _how hard_ Christina has tried?"

And then, suddenly, Tris bursts into small peals of laughter, and I have trouble containing my own. I do not know why we are laughing together, and again, apparently Tris realizes the same thing, because quickly she stops.

"Well, I _am_ about to go to your house," she says, and I turn white. Of course. Marcus will insist on the new arrival coming in and fake-charming her. Then he will call me 'Tobias' and everyone will know. Marcus hates Christina, so she never has to come in. But he will be curious about Tris.

"I have to hide you," I say desperately. I can't risk Marcus finding out about her. It's not only that my name will be revealed, but Tris will probably be hurt. Physically, emotionally, I don't know. But Marcus will weasel his way in, just like Principal Jeanine Matthews.

Christina comes out of the house holding loads of jackets. "I have to take them home. I forgot all of them at our past parties," she says, and tosses a long cream-colored one to Tris. "Here, put this on. You'll look just like Shauna."

I mouth _Thank you_ to Christina. She and the gang knows what Marcus is capable of – well, just being mean. They don't know that he beats me. Christina nods to me and, uncertain, Tris slides her arms into the sleeves.

"Why's everyone concerned about me hiding or something?" she asks. I remember her comment before school started this morning if "my mommy or daddy beat me." It was only a poor (yet mean) joke, but she had no idea how true it is. I realize I can't tell her.

"It's cold outside, Tris," I say. "You should be warm."

She raises her eyebrows again. "First of all, I'm wearing two extra layers and you're only in a T-shirt. Second, I'm not going to be outside. I'm going to be in a _heated car_. Oh, and do I need to mention that I don't need to look like Shauna to be warm?"

Whoops. Bad cover.

Christina sighs. "Damn, Tris, d'you really have to question everything? Just get in the car next to Four. We don't have a lot of time."

I realize what she means and check my watch. It's eleven fifty-five. Oh crap.

"Crap, I gotta get home. I'm gonna run," I say, and Christina shakes her head.

"Don't, Four! It's dangerous," she says. Yes, it is. If Marcus sees me running, he will be furious, because selfless teenagers don't run unless they're going to help someone.

"I have a good backup story," I reassure her. "I'll be fine. Gotta go!"

The last thing I see is Tris looking at me, confused, and then I turn around and bolt for my house. It is only five minutes away when I walk, so I arrive at my bleak gray house in two minutes.

When I enter, barely panting, Marcus slams me into the wall and shuts the door.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?" he hisses. "Running in public? You don't play football, you worthless piece of crap!"

I control myself and put on my poker face. Looking him square in the eye, I say politely, "Sorry, sir. I had seen an elderly lady fall at the end of the street, so I ran as fast as I could, but by the time I had gotten there, she had already gone. I don't know where she is, sir. Would you like me to go look for her?"

Marcus sighs heavily, and I smell his disgusting garlic, dirty-sock breath as he leans close.

"Elderly lady, huh?" he growls. "You sure?"

I nod, terrified, but know not to show it. "Yes, sir."

He lets me go. "Good enough," he mutters. "But if I find out you're lying …" he lets the threat dangle in the air. Then he stalks away, probably over to his office to look at some more police reports. I sigh in relief and head up to my room.

I pull out my phone and text the gang in a group chat that we've used for ages. _Got home safe._

Suddenly, a texter named _BTrisP_ texts, _What do you mean? Will someone please tell me what the freak is going on?_

I look at my phone screen and sigh. _BTrisP_. Beatrice Prior. She's on the group chat. I forgot.

 _Zeke – didn't u know, tris? 4's dad is rly strict. he punishes 4 real bad if 4 doesn't get home on time :(_

I groan and cover my eyes. Idiot Zeke.

 _Four – zeke, what the hell?_

 _Zeke – c'mon, 4, she's part of the gang_

 _Four – well still, we hate eachother._

 _Tris – hello, im right here!_

 _Christina – shut up, guys, im driving_

 _Marlene – 4, what was ur excuse?_

I sigh again.

 _Four – rly doesn't matter. but i told him I saw an old lady falling down and i had to run_

 _Lynn – marcus's weak. no way would I fall for that if I was 4's dad._

 _Tris – wait a moment. Marcus as in marcus eaton?_

 _Lynn – ya, y?_

My mouth opens in horror. Damn that Lynn! What the hell?

 _Tris – 4, is it true?_

I realize what I have to write.

 _Four – no more questions. g2g to sleep_

 _Tris – don't avoid the question, 4_

I don't respond. I just flop down on my bed and try to go to sleep.

When I finally do, my last image is of Tris Prior.

 **Did you like Four's POV? If you did, send me a review or a PM and tell me. If you have negative things to say, I'd really prefer it if you'd send it in a PM to me. Thanks!**

 **Be brave.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Yo, folks. Three chapters in three days. I'm pretty proud of myself. I forgot to tell you last chapter how touched I was when I read all of your reviews begging me not to stop. Well, I won't. I genuinely like this story, I was just concerned that no one cared about it - and my policy is, when people don't care about your writing anymore, it's time to stop. But apparently you readers do care, and I am just so happy right now.**

 **Sorry for my rant. It's Chapter 20. After all, I wouldn't want to keep you waiting. There is some pretty sad stuff in here though. Well, actually, the whole chapter is pretty sad. But hopefully things will brighten up. I said** ** _hopefully._**

 **Without further ado, Chapter 20!**

I look at Four's text. _no more questions. g2g to sleep._

Then I flop down on my huge, comfy bed and stare at my phone. Four Eaton's father is Marcus Eaton. Well, it's not like it's a huge mystery. I mean, I knew that Four's last name was Eaton. So why am I so shocked?

Maybe because Four's father is incredibly mean to him. Unless Lynn is lying – and I'm pretty sure she's not, Marcus Eaton, the most respected, selfless leader of our government, is very, very strict and does not even allow one minute's lateness.

At least it isn't real abuse, like physical abuse. I know Four can handle emotional/mental abuse. I've tried it. But one thing I know is he can't stand physical abuse (I figured that out right before he hospitalized me).

Why do I even care, though? Why is Four constantly on my mind? Why are his deep blue eyes always seeming to haunt me wherever I go?

Christina had dropped me off at my house a few minutes ago. She hadn't said a word, only "Bye, Tris. See ya tomorrow" in a short, brief way. Then she'd left.

Christina had seemed pretty mad. But this is something I need to do, so I go to my phone app and dial in Christina's number (she'd given it to me previously).

It rings a few times before a professional-sounding voice answers. "Hello, my name is Christina Kravitz, what can I do for you? This is possibly the wrong number. If you'd like to call fashion stylist Carrie Kravitz, her number is" –

"Christina, it's me," I interrupt, smiling despite myself.

I hear a sigh at the other end. "Tris, I'm busy right now. I'll call you back later."

She hangs up and I'm left wondering what happened.

Then I come up with a great idea. I text her, _it's boy stuff._

Almost immediately, she calls me back.

"Tris, what is it?" she says when I pick up, and I smile even more when she sounds even a teensy bit excited.

"It's Four," I say after a bit. "Chris, he's driving me crazy. I can't get his face out of my head. I can't think about something without wondering whether Four's watching me. And the whole thing with Marcus being his dad … well, it's kind of freaking me out. I figured the best thing to do would be to call you, as you're kinda an expert on this kind of stuff."

Christina sighs. "OK, Tris, now is not the best time to consult me on boy stuff."

"But you just called when I texted 'it's boy stuff!'" I exclaim.

"I didn't even look at your text, Tris," Christina says and her voice is dead serious. "I called about something way, way serious."

There's no giggling, no laughing, no screaming in a teenager-ish way. This is Christina in work mode.

"What is it?" I ask, concerned.

"Your best friend is Susan Black, right?" Christina asks heavily.

"Yeah," I say uncertainly. "From Maine."

"Yeah, well, I just got this on the news and that's why I hung up previously. I was trying to muster up the strength to tell you." She pauses. "Tris, Susan's gone missing."

Those three words "Susan's gone missing" make my room tremble. I swallow, then ask, "When did it happen?"

"1:30 PM, Maine time. That's 12:30 PM, Chicago time for us. When we have lunch." She pauses again. "Weren't you on the phone with her during lunch today?"

"Yeah, and right after I told her I wasn't a spoiled brat – she didn't respond." My voice cracks and my mouth is dry. "I haven't heard from her since. Not a text, not a call, which is so unlike her, because after that I promised to call her tonight, and it's already really late. She should have asked me something by now. Why did the news just come in now?"

There's silence on the other end, then Christina says, "Apparently her parents felt that she was just out at lunch or something and only began to get worried at ten thirty. At eleven, they called the police."

I feel tears welling up in my eyes. "Any clues?"

"No," Christina says. "Except for a note left on the kitchen table – asking for ransom."

I have trouble holding in my tears. "For how much?" I barely manage to get out.

"A thousand dollars," Christina says soberly, and now I can't contain myself. The tears flow out of me, and I'm choking and sobbing with the weight of what has happened to my best friend. Susan has been kidnapped. Well, we're guessing. There _is_ a ransom note left on their kitchen table after all. I can't control my flow of tears, for they are falling and falling. Little droplets turn bigger and bigger, making my pretty dress all soggy.

"Aw, you poor girl," Christina sympathizes, and then she hangs up. I cry even harder, wondering why she just left me like this. I'm curled up into a ball on my bed, choking out sobs. My heart feels like it is being broken in two. The selfless, beautiful girl I grew up with has been kidnapped. And I'm almost across the country from where she was taken.

The doorbell rings. I hear Caleb answer the door. He's probably with Cara right now, and that realization just makes me cry even more.

"Hello?" I hear him saying. "Oh, yeah, she's upstairs. Heard something like crying up there. She must have one of her Taylor Swift songs on."

Typical clueless Caleb. Then I cry harder because I'm being mean, and quite possibly I'm spoiled and rude again. Then feet are pounding up the stairs, and someone opens my closed door, but my back is turned, so I don't see who it is.

Almost immediately I feel someone stroking my hair. "It's okay, Tris," Christina whispers, hugging me. "I gotcha right here. You're safe."

"But Susan isn't," I barely manage say between all my tears, and Christina just hugs me tighter and whispers soothing things to me as I feel like I am crying my heart out.

Christina doesn't say it's OK anymore. She knows it isn't, and I appreciate that. But I think of poor Susan, gone. She might even be –

I convulse, crying even harder, practically screaming. No. She can't be. She can't.

Christina seems to read my thoughts. "Tris, she's not dead," she tells me, stroking my hair again, and then my brother barges in.

"Oh crap, definitely not a Taylor Swift song," he mutters, and hurries to my side. But I am lying on my side, not facing them, so I don't see the tall, blond figure standing awkwardly to the side – but then I turn my face and I do.

"Cara," I croak. "Hi."

Then I cry more. Tears flow. No one moves for a moment, until Caleb asks Christina quietly, "D'you know what happened?"

But I hear it, and then I hear the response.

"Susan's been kidnapped," she replies softly, and I wail. I want to tear myself out. Maybe you don't understand.

Susan and I grew up together. We were like sisters. Imagine your closest sibling getting kidnapped. That is how it is for me. Images float through my brain of Susan getting tortured, killed. Four is totally gone from my mind now. Susan has taken her rightful place as the person I am worried about the most.

Moving away from her was hard enough. We could read each other – tell what the other person wanted. I was spoiled, so Susan would usually be getting stuff for me and practically being my servant, but she had stuck to my side faithfully.

And now she is gone, probably forever.

I wail louder, clawing at myself crazily. How stupid am I? My (probably) last words to her were words that came out of my mouth when I was annoyed. Then I had hung up on her. She had been basically my servant for my whole life, and I had never told her how much I appreciated her. Now I would probably never get the chance.

I punch my pillow.

It feels good. I don't feel as sad anymore.

My eyes widen, and I temporarily feel better and stop crying. That punch clears all emotions from me, happy or sad, and I look at Caleb, Cara, and Christina, who are looking at me, half-surprised, and half-curious.

"Christina," I croak. "Do you have something to punch besides a pillow?"

She nods, looking concerned. "Well, no, not really, but we can go to the gym. It's open 24/7 and there are lots of punching bags. Would that help you?"

I nod slowly. "Yeah, I think so." I look at Caleb and take a deep breath. "Caleb, text Mom that I won't be home until late, maybe two o'clock in the morning."

"Tris, that's really late," he protests, but I shoot him a look and he quickly silences.

"Cara, can you try and find any more details or things that can possibly be traced down to Susan's disappearance and help us find her?"

"We're not going after her, Tris," Christina says, and her voice is really firm. I nod.

"I know. But we're gonna help the police find her by gathering as many clues as we can," I say seriously.

Suddenly, Christina's eyes light up. "Tris, you checked your texts and calls, but did you check your email? Susan might have emailed you," she says hopefully, and I frown.

"Susan never emails me," I say.

Christina shrugs. "It'll be worth it if there is an email, Tris."

So, I go to my laptop and login to my account. I don't use email on my phone.

No email.

I reload the page. Still no email from Susan.

Christina sighs. "It was worth a shot anyway," she says hopelessly. "Well, let's get going. Caleb, Cara, do what Tris instructed. We'll be at the gym."

Christina drives me there in her Ferrari. Turns out, she took it to my house. I sit shotgun, trying to contain the rest of my tears.

"You know, you probably should reapply your makeup," Christina says out of the blue. "You look like a vampire."

I glance in the rearview mirror and shudder. My lips, previously perfectly coated with lip gloss, have gloss dripping down from them and it has lost its sparkle. Mascara is running down my cheeks, and my nude-colored eye shadow got on my eyelashes and is being carried down my cheeks by teardrops.

"However, you _are_ going to the gym," she continues. "So it doesn't really matter. But you probably should wipe it all off. No offense, girlie, but you look hideous."

I force a laugh. I _do_ look hideous, but at this point I really don't care.

"C'mon, Tris. We're here," she says, and we get out of the car.

We walk into the gym.

 **Ooh. Did that make you sad? It kinda made me sad, but there's a total lack of drama in this story right now and I think stories without drama parts are kind of boring. So, this particular little episode of sadness might last a few more chapters. Please review!**

 **Be brave.**


	21. Chapter 21

**I'm really sorry I haven't updated in a while. I had to rewrite this chapter two times, which was pretty hard. Please forgive me and PLEASE review!**

The gym is more like a rec center, with a rock-climbing wall, a pool, and a small gymnasium. But it also has countless workout machines and weights.

Christina leads me to the punching bags. They hang by a short chain attached to the ceiling. I choose one and punch.

"Put your weight behind it, girlie," Christina says. "Vent your anger."

"OK …" I say uncertainly, and give it a punch. It barely sways.

"Wow, Tris. How would you like to sign up for a workout class? You can build muscles and get more unspoiled," Christina offers.

I balk at first, then relax. "I don't know, Chris. I've never been much of an exerciser."

"C'mon, Tris! You can do it!" she encourages, and I just give her a glance.

Then I sigh. "All right, Christina. I'll do it. Do I like sign up somewhere or what?"

"Sign up here," Christina says, leading me to a table in the corner. A tall, athletic-looking college-aged girl sits behind it. She has short, spiky blond hair, electric blue eyes, and has an iPod shuffle clipped to her workout tank top, earbuds dangling from around her neck. She's also chewing gum noisily.

"Hey, Lemon," Christina says. "This is Tris Prior. She just moved here. She wants to sign up for workout classes."

Lemon looks me up and down, then sighs. "All right, Christina … Kravitz?"

"Yup. Carrie Kravitz's daughter," Christina says proudly. Lemon's eyes widen.

"Sweet! Man, I've heard you Kravitz folks have, like, a zillion Ferraris and Teslas and _sweet_ cars. Mind taking me on a ride sometime?" Lemon asks excitedly.

"We only have one Ferrari, one Tesla, a Chevrolet, and one customized convertible. Not that special," Christina replies. "But I'd love to take you on a ride. But hey – Tris's brother has a motorcycle!"

Lemon glances at me briefly. "Eh. Whatever. A _Ferrari,_ though? A customized convertible? Man, that is the _coolest_."

"Yeah, OK, whatever," Christina says, but she sounds pleased. "Can Tris sign up now?"

"Sure," Lemon says, reasonably deflated. "Tris, just fill out some personal home information on this sheet, medical info on this one, and other concerns … _here._ " She taps a few lines on a separate sheet with a sharp pencil and gives me two other sheets titled _Personal Home Information_ and _Medical Information_.

"D'you, have, like, a pen or something I can use?" I ask. Lemon rolls her eyes.

"Damn, you don't have to act so snobby," she mutters under her breath, but hands me a pen.

"I'm not _snobby!_ " I exclaim, totally pissed. Christina grabs my shoulder.

"Sorry," she apologizes to Lemon. "We're working on it. C'mere, Tris." She drags me to the side.

"What?" I ask, annoyed.

"Look, our gang knows you, so we know you don't mean to be … well, mean." Christina hesitates. "But other people don't know you, Tris, so just _try_ to act a _little_ bit nicer when you talk to other people. For example, when you say, 'Can I have a pen?'" Christina mock-flips her hair "you sound kinda obnoxious and rude. Try, 'Sorry to bother you, but d'you mind if I could just take a pen there?'" Christina offers an "apologetic" smile. Then she shrugs. "See? Easy as pie."

I raise my eyebrows, totally annoyed, and Christina slaps me.

"See, that's what I mean! When you raise your eyebrows like that, it's like you give off this aura that says, 'I'm so much better than you and you better do what I want!' It's not cool, Tris."

"I don't get it," I say, and Christina just looks at me.

"You don't _get_ when you're being rude? Wow, hon, we have a lot to work on." She brightens. "But that's why we're signing you up! Fill out the forms already, I can't wait!"

"What's so exciting, Chris?" I ask, and she smiles knowingly.

"Oh, nothing," she says, but clearly there's something she's hiding.

"C'mon, spill," I say, but she just shakes her head.

"What do you mean? There's nothing to spill. Now just _fill the forms out!_ "

I sit down on a chair and write down my typical info – my full name, how old I am, where I live, what's my zipcode, who are my legal guardians … that kind of stuff. Then I get to the medical forms and it says, _Have you been in the hospital within the past three months, and if so, for what cause?_

I hesitate, and Christina looks over my shoulder. "Huh. Write, 'hospitalized by classmate. Arm damaged, but is fully recovered. No injuries remain.' OK?"

I write what Christina told me to, fill out that I don't have any allergies (seriously, why does a gym need to know your allergies?), and that I have no medical conditions. Christina snatches the last paper, which is for additional concerns, and writes, _I have a tendency to snap at people and might cause a little trouble during classes. I am working to improve this, so don't worry. Thanks for understanding._ She flourishes the pen and smiles. "There."

"Christina!" I exclaim. "That's forging!"

"Oh, so what?" she asks carelessly. "C'mon, let's give these papers to Lemon."

I walk over to Lemon and hand the three pages to her. She gives them a glance and her eyes widen. "'Hospitalized by classmate. Arm damaged, but is fully recovered. No injuries remain.'" She looks up curiously. "Do I want to know why a classmate put you in hospital?"

My lips tighten and I begin to think of a great retort I can make, but Christina jumps in. "Yeah, read the additional concerns."

Lemon flips to that page and reads aloud, "'I have a tendency to snap at people and might cause a little trouble during classes. I am working to improve this, so don't worry. Thanks for understanding.' Wow." Lemon nods slightly. "Christina, you wrote this, didn't you?"

"How did you know?" Christina replies sarcastically.

Lemon rolls her eyes in jest. "Who would have guessed? All right, Tris, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"All I have to say is that I just want to strengthen my muscles and it's really none of your business if I want to do anything else," I retort,a nd Christina grabs my shoulder again. I shake her off. **(Shake it off, shake it off, mm-hmm! I never miss a beat! I'm lightning on my feet! Get it? No? Okay, I'll stop being a Taylor Swift major-fan now. Although really, who doesn't want to be? ;-) )**

Lemon raises her eyebrows. "Some spirit, girl. Now get out of my sight; I have work to do."

Christina drags me away again, her perfect nails digging into my skin. " _What the hell were you thinking?_ " she hisses to me. "After we just had a talk about being nice!"

"I'm not in kindergarten, Chris. Leave me alone," I say, and break free from her grasp. "Just … just _leave me alone!_ "

I run out the gym as fast as I can. I think it's sweat first, but my eyes water and I realize that I'm about to cry. I brush my tears away furiously, panting as I run.

Suddenly, a figure steps in front of me. I stop abruptly and realize it's Shauna.

"Hey," she greets me. "I just saw you outside. You're in front of my house, you know. It's really late, like midnight. Whatcha doin' up and about still?"

I remember Susan. "Oh – nothing," I choke out. "I can't see the way back to my house. Mind if I come in?"

"If you hadn't asked, I would've told you to," Shauna says. "Lynn and my parents are asleep, though, so let's be quiet."

We walk in quietly, Shauna shutting the door softly behind me. She leads me up some stairs in the darkness and opens a door that's invisible in the dark to me.

"C'mon in," she whispers, and closes the door. Then she flicks on a light. I stare.

Shauna's room is painted a light blue, but you can barely tell that because _everywhere_ is covered by boys' pictures. Not famous guys like One Direction people, but guys in our school – Will, Uriah, Zeke, even Peter, Al, Eric, and Drew. There are also some faces I don't recognize – but Zeke is the one who's mainly taped to the walls, probably because he's her boyfriend.

"Boy-crazy?" I whisper to her. She rolls her eyes and says in a normal voice, "Mom, Dad, and Lynn won't be able to hear us now. You can talk regularly."

I exhale in relief. "Great. Can you, uh, give me a ride home?"

Shauna shrugs. "What can I say? We're gang-sisters now."

I raise my eyebrows. "Gang-sisters? What's that supposed to mean?"

"We're here for each other," Shauna answers simply.

A figure emerges from Shauna's bathroom. It's Zeke. He's wearing boxers and a gray T-shirt. I look away, embarrassed.

"Zeke!" Shauna reproaches. "I told you Tris was here!"

Zeke rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Tris, glad to see you here! Why _are_ you here though? It's late."

"Could say the same to you," I respond drily. Zeke smiles easily.

"Out at the gym," I finally answer.

"Christina?" Zeke asks knowingly. I glance at him.

"How'd you know?" I ask.

"Christina's a big fan of the gym. Hey, did you know Eric and Four work there?"

" _What?_ " I ask, horrified. " _Eric and Four?_ My two least favorite boys?"

"Aw, c'mon now, I go there too sometimes," Zeke says. I immediately brighten. Zeke is someone to look forward to when I go there.

"Great," I say.

Shauna smiles. "Hey Zeke, do you mind starting up my parents' car for me? You know where it is," she says. "Just heat it up – it's kind of cold, you know."

Zeke nods. "Sure. Wanna come, Tris?"

Shauna interrupts, "No, I think Tris can stay here. I'm gonna talk to her a bit."

"OK …" Zeke says uncertainly. "Text me when you're about to come down, OK?"

"OK," Shauna says, smiling at him. He leaves.

As soon as he shuts the door behind him, Shauna crosses the room and locks the door. She rounds on me furiously, totally mad.

"Don't think I can't see what you're doing, _Tris,_ " she spits, punching me. All her happy pretense is gone, and her eyes are shooting daggers at me, it seems.

"What? What am I doing?" I stumble from the force of her punch and cower.

"Don't play dumb to me. I'm not an _idiot,_ " Shauna growls. "It doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

"Figure _what_ out?" I'm totally clueless as Shauna gives me another punch.

" _That you're trying to steal Zeke from me!_ " Shauna exclaims furiously. "Don't think I didn't see you dancing with him at truth or dare! You chose his side without hesitating when him and Uriah were having that food fight! And I saw you blush when he showed up in his boxers just now!"

My mouth opens wide. "Shauna, I was _embarrassed_!" I yell back. "Zeke saved me from Eric, of course I feel _some_ feelings for him, but not in that way" –

"Oh, don't make any excuses, I can see right through you!" Shauna retorts, fuming. "And I've seen how Zeke looks at you. He _likes_ you, Tris! He enjoys having you in his company more than me!"

"That's not at all what's happening, Shauna!" I can't believe this. Then I stop short. "Wait a minute. You weren't _there_ when Zeke and I were dancing at truth or dare. I didn't see you at _all_ , and that dress you were wearing really stood out. Who told you, seriously?"

"Who do you think?" Shauna spits. " _Lynn!_ She sticks up for me no matter what, and she wasn't afraid to let me know what was going on with you two! She's the only one loyal to me now!"

I can't help but laugh. " _Lynn_ , Shauna? Really? And you really believed her?"

Shauna glares at me. "Of course I believe her, Tris! She's my sister!"

My mouth opens. "It's obvious she hates me, Shauna. Don't you think she blew it all out of proportion so you'd be totally mad at me? Didn't you think all this through?"

Shauna hesitates. "Well …"

"You know, I've had enough with you people," I say, totally frustrated. "I just wish Susan could be here."

"Wait, Susan? Your best friend from Maine?"

"Yeah, my best friend who was _kidnapped!_ " I scream. "I'm leaving! I hope you're still driving me home, otherwise you'll have Caleb to deal with next!"

I storm out Shauna's bedroom door, tearing off a picture of Zeke from Shauna's wall as I do.

 **Uh-oh, someone's mad. Please review, folks! Not gonna bug you though.**

 **Be brave.**


	22. Chapter 22 Part 1

**And what is up, you folks? Sorry for the late chapter. I've been busy.**

 **Part 1**

 _Dear Diary (in my head),_

 _It all happened so quick. I don't want to explain it, but I guess I have to. And I'm writing this in my brain (it still sounds weird), so I don't have to actually write it down on real paper, so it doesn't have to be recognized by everyone. Oh, and this is in past tense – that makes sense to me anyway._

 _I don't know what to think anymore, what's right or wrong, or how to cope with the grief that is overcoming me._

 _Let's begin._

 _When I left Shauna's house, Zeke was waiting for me outside, next to Shauna's Porsche. He grinned at me._

 _"_ _Tris! So, I was thinking we'd have another truth or dare party in a few nights" –_

 _I nodded, out of it. "Sure, I guess." I didn't even get what he was saying. My mind was too focused on EVERY OTHER single thing occupying space in my mind, like Christina, Shauna, and … and Susan._

 _I hopped in the Porsche's backseat. Shauna stormed out of the house, swung the front door closed wildly, and stomped over to the car._

 _"_ _You OK_ , _honey?" Zeke asked, concerned._

 _"_ _I'm fine," Shauna mumbled, and sat in the driver's seat. "Wanna come to Tris's house with me?"_

 _"_ _Nah, I'm all right. I'm gonna head back to my house though; so you probably won't see me after you come home. Wait – I could use a ride home, actually."_

 _Shauna gestured to the car. "Hop in."_

 _Zeke, Shauna and I drove to Zeke's house._

 _Shauna dropped Zeke off, totally giving me the silent treatment._

 _"_ _Shauna, can you turn the radio on?" I asked. I wanted to hear if any news had been found about Susan._

 _Shauna rolled her eyes but turned it on._

 _"_ _Yes, this has been very, incredibly terrible news," a reporter's sad voice was saying. "All right, folks who have just tuned in, a house was burned down. It belongs … to the Eaton family. Marcus Eaton, the famous governor, and his son Tobias, were caught in the fire. We are lucky enough now to have Marcus Eaton here to talk to us. Mr. Eaton, where is your son?"_

 _Shauna almost stopped driving. I froze._

 _"_ _My kid Four?" Marcus asked roughly. I recognized the voice and realized he was the one who was shouting and stuff at Four. For some reason, I felt hate boiling up inside of me. "Oh, he ran out just as the fire started. I saw him start it."_

 _The reporter gasped, and Shauna kept driving easily._

 _"_ _Yeah, I saw him light a match to a wooden door and run out the other way. Y'know, he's always been a bad kid. Wouldn't be surprised if he landed in juvie before he went to college."_

 _"_ _But sir, don't you care for your son? Don't you want to protect him?"_

 _"_ _No point," Marcus replied. "Listen, I know when my kid's too far gone to listen. He's like … like one of those teenage delinquents. You know he drinks, too. Only sixteen. Almost seventeen, but that's beside the point."_

 _"_ _Oh, I'm so sorry. Would you like a therapist number for him?"_

 _"_ _Oh man, I'd love one," Marcus said through the radio. "I love Toby more'n anything in the world, and I hate to see him like this. It's hard to handle the grief, you know? Hard to see your own kid burn down your house. Makes you wonder if … if he'll be one of those suicidal teens."_

 _The reporter gasped again. "Oh my, Mr. Eaton. I am truly sorry. So you have no idea where Tobias is?"_

 _"_ _My guess would be with their friends the Pedrads. Zeke and Uriah. The mom's Hana, she works at Roth High School, the school Toby and his friends go to. Not that he has any real friends, you know, they just stick together 'cuz poor Toby's a bully. They follow him outta fear, the like."_

 _Shauna swerved around._

 _"_ _Where are you going?" I asked, confused._

 _"_ _Back to Zeke and Uriah's," was her brief reply. She switched off the radio. "I don't want to hear any more."_

 _"_ _Wait – so Four burned down his own house?" I asked in disbelief._

 _Shauna smacked me, hard. "You idiot! Of course not. Marcus makes things up sometimes about his 'delinquent son.' It's for the press attention, you know? It's not enough for Marcus to burn down his house for the attention, he has to blame his son for it too. The press loves that kind of thing."_

 _I nodded. "OK … so Four's at Zeke and Uriah's?"_

 _"_ _Duh." Shauna rolled her eyes. "Wait, no, Tris, he's flying over the rainbow with unicorn wings."_

 _I groaned. "Shauna, I get that you're mad at me for 'liking Zeke' which I totally do not," I said. "But really, you're taking this too far. Seriously."_

 _"_ _I get it," Shauna replied, sighing. "It's just that … you don't have any other boyfriends – you looked totally repulsed when Four kissed you at truth or dare – and, um, well, you always seem kinda pleased when Zeke looks at you. Like, you like him. I dunno, Tris. I'm probably being silly at this point."_

 _I touched Shauna's shoulder tentatively. "No, you're not, Shauna. I'm the one being silly. I was such a spoiled brat that I wanted everyone to like me, even though I pretended not to care. I guess at the beginning, all I saw was a tall, handsome, muscular boy with a name that just rolls off the tongue – Ezekiel – and I thought, 'Wow, he's a taker.'" Shauna flushed with anger. I continued hastily. "But then I realized that not everything is mine to take. And, I guess I kinda lost interest in him. Now, even though I've only known him for a few weeks, it seems like he's my brother. Not my boyfriend. I promise."_

 _Shauna smiled gratefully. "Wow, that was a pretty good speech-type thing. You're good at talking, did you know that?"_

 _I smiled modestly. "No, I didn't."_

 _The Pedrad house came into view. Huge and grand, I envied the Pedrads for living in such a great house._

 _There was one thing that tarnished the perfect sight, though._

 _Reporters were everywhere. Talking in microphones, smiling at huge TV cameras, asking a flustered Hana Pedrad questions nonstop about Tobias Eaton, who was supposedly housing at her house._

 _Shauna steered neatly behind the house, where she parked at a parking space labeled S/L._

 _"_ _Lynn or me," Shauna explained to me. "All of our gang has a special parking spot. I'm sure you saw Christina's when you guys came to T or D."_

 _She turned off the Porsche, taking the key out and slipping it in her pocket._

 _"_ _Let's go, Tris," she said._

 _We both got out of the car. Shauna grabbed my hand and started hauling me towards the mass of reporters._

 _"_ _What are we doing?" I shouted over the huge noise._

 _"_ _Getting Hana out of this mess! She hates the press!" Shauna yelled back. The noise was deafening – at least, it seemed that way._

 _My phone rang._

 _But I didn't hear it._

 _And that almost cost Susan her life._

 _At this point I must pause. It's hard recalling all the events and exactly what people said. I might be missing a little bit, and not everything is word-for-word. It's really hard, especially when I remember Susan, now suffering in the hospital from several wounds and knife marks given to her by her captor. There is a lot of blood loss. The doctors aren't sure she'll make it, but they say they're trying as hard as they can so she can live._

 _I'm sorry. Let's continue the story._

 _Shauna dragged me over to Hana Pedrad, who was shielding her face from the blinding lights of the cameras surrounding her._

 _"_ _Ms. Pedrad, we'd really appreciate it if you'd answer the question," a blond reporter said, trying to be nice. "Is Tobias Eaton being housed here or not?"_

 _Shauna took a deep breath. "Stand back, Tris," she said in a voice that meant business. I realized she wasn't kidding and ran a few feet away from her._

 _Shauna grabbed the microphone from the blond reporter and smiled at the glaring light of the camera. "And hello … CNN!" she said, reading the label on the microphone. "Wow, I'm on CNN! Alright, kids and adults who're watching this. This poor woman is being attacked by the press with questions she can't answer! How fair is that? Fair? No?" She pretended to hear them. "GET OUT, YOU NO GOOD, SNEAKY, PROBING SECRET-STEALERS!"_

 _She spun around and kicked with her shin at the blond reporter, who was gaping stupidly at the cameras. She fell and crumpled on the asphalt sidewalk._

 _The cameraman dropped the camera in horror and rushed to her side._

 _"_ _Lisa! Lisa, are you alright?" he shouted. Shauna rolled her eyes in disgust._

 _"_ _Where'd you learn to do that?" I asked in amazement._

 _"_ _Four!" she told me. "C'mon, Hana, let's get in the house!"_

 _Hana shot Shauna a grateful smile. "Thanks, Shauna. Move it now!"_

 _We all rushed into the house, bolting the door behind us._

 _Marcus Eaton suddenly ran up to the door and banged on it outside. "Hana! Hana, I need to talk to you!"_

 _Hana sighed, rolled her eyes, but let Marcus in anyway._

 _"_ _Look, Hana, I know that you might be upset because of all the reporters" –_

 _"_ _One, don't call me Hana. Call me Ms. Pedrad," Hana cut off icily. "And two, I am extremely upset and I wish that you would call them off right now."_

 _"_ _Ms. Pedrad, I am very, very sorry. My son is a troublemaker. I need to find out where he is so I can … have a talk with him about his behavior."_

 _Hana sighed. "Do you really expect me to believe that? Marcus, I was a psychologist for many years. I know when someone is lying. Please don't provoke me into kicking you forcibly out of the house."_

 _"_ _Ms. Pedrad, please. I am a respected politician in Chicago" –_

 _Hana snorted. "Oh, please. There's no such thing as a respected politician."_

 _Marcus sighed. "Please, Ms. Pedrad, reason with me." He took both her hands in his and gazed into her eyes. "My son Tobias is … very important to me. If you are housing him, he will not be in trouble, nor will you. In fact, you will be rewarded. I need him, Hana. Please." His voice broke._

 _I knew that Marcus shouted things at Four. I knew he was very mean to Four. Of course, I didn't know he was actually, physically abusive to Four then. Now I do. However, once more that must be explained in its own time._

 _But the little I knew about what Marcus did to Four was enough. I knew Marcus's helpless, vulnerable pleading was an act, to convince soft-hearted Hana to tell him._

 _And as I saw Hana take a breath, I knew she would tell Marcus the truth._

 _I didn't know why I cared about Four's wellbeing that much. I was supposed to hate him, despise him, loathe him. I was supposed to not give a damn about what he did or didn't do, what happened to him or didn't happen to him. I wasn't supposed to care._

 _But I did._

 _And I said bravely, standing up to the gray-haired, stooped man named Marcus Eaton, "You're lying."_

 _Those two words seemed to echo throughout the house. Hana and Shauna gasped. My voice was cold as ice and sharp as knives._

 _"_ _Four tells us what you do to him," I said, and for a moment, I saw a shadow of fear flicker over Marcus's face. "He tells us how he hurts." At the time, I meant emotionally, but Marcus thought it was in the context of physically, and he began breathing hard, as if he were stressed._

 _"_ _You pretend to be nice and sweet. That's your outside layer," I continued, and through my peripheral vision, I saw Zeke and Uriah stand in the doorway to a different room, staring at me. Zeke beckoned to something – or someone – behind them, and Four joined them, all staring at me silently._

 _I didn't falter._

 _"_ _But the inside shows who you really are," I said. "For everyone. No matter what their outside layers are, their inside ones are the ones that truly matter. Those inside layers are your personalities, your truths. Your guilts. Your joys. The things that make you, well, you." I didn't know where the words were coming from, but they were flowing out easily. "When I see you on TV, I see your shell, Mr. Eaton. But when I see you in person, and when I hear about you from your son, I see the man who abuses his son." Again, I meant emotionally at that point, but Marcus again thought it was physically, and he paled. "I see the man who burned down his own house and blamed it on his son to attract the press's attention. The man who tricks people cunningly to bend to his evil will._

 _"_ _And that is why I am shocked that you are one of the heads of the government." I glared at Marcus, who was breathing hard and pale._

 _Shauna laughed admiringly. "Wow, girlie, you really do have some skills at speeches. You should try out for the debate club at school."_

 _I barely spared her a glance, choosing to focus my sightline on Zeke, Uriah, and Four still standing in the doorway._

 _Four smiled at me._

 _I couldn't believe it. It wasn't a "don't hurt me again or I'll send you to the hospital" kind of smile. It wasn't an "I'm so much better than you so stop talking to me like you own the word" kind of smile. It was a genuine, thankful smile._

 _"_ _Thank you," he mouthed._

 **End of Part 1**

 **Part 2 Coming Soon!**

 **Be brave.**


	23. Chapter 22 Part 2

**Back to back uploads. I'm so proud of myself!**

 **Part 2**

 _Words are strange._

 _They can make us happy. Or sad. Words have killed people in the past; have saved their lives. They have put huge burdens on us. They have also released those burdens._

 _It all depends which words they are. And the tone in which we use them._

 _Do we abuse words? Or do we value them? Do we take them for granted? Or do we thank God for giving us this extremely effective power of communication?_

 _Do we even need words, though?_

 _All excellent questions. The answers, though, are ones that I do not know._

 _When Four mouthed "Thank you" to me, it was like time froze. We locked eyes and came to a sudden agreement silently._

 _Friends._

 _Not closer than that, not farther than that. We were going to be friends like Shauna and I were friends. Not total BFFs, and not enemies._

 _And we didn't use words. We connected, mind to mind._

 _It was the hugest thing I'd ever done with a boy whom I hated since I'd kissed Robert, Susan's older brother. It was gross, disgusting, and repulsive all at once, and I'd hated it. I'd dropped him in the "worst kisser zone" and hadn't given a second thought about it. After all, I'd been spoiled then._

 _Four's smile was ingrained in my mind. How could I forget it?_

 _Marcus was gaping like a fish, opening and closing his mouth._

 _Hana was smiling at me and glaring at Marcus._

 _Shauna was making eye contact with Zeke and mouthing questions. We didn't want to let Hana and Marcus realize that there were three other kids in the room._

 _I was staring at Marcus, not breaking eye contact. He took a deep breath._

 _"_ _Beatrice Prior," he said aloud. "Daughter of Andrew and Natalie Prior. Sister of Caleb Prior. Aged sixteen. Moved here exactly two months ago, from Maine. Goes to school with my son, Tobias, apparently." Marcus laughed, and it was a creepy, bone-chilling laugh. "You know I abuse my son. Ha! Big deal. There are only a few marks on his back, not as many as he makes it out to be." He paused for a moment, thinking and watching my expression. "Wait a moment! You don't know that I abuse him physically! Bet Four didn't tell you after all! I'm telling you, you can't trust Four. He will tell you all he thinks you need to know, and withhold the rest."_

 _I glanced at Four, worried about what Marcus was saying. He shook his head. "Not true," he mouthed._

 _I tried to force out a smile, uncertainly._

 _"_ _Have you seen his back? No? He exaggerates about the whip marks," Marcus laughed. "Oh, and Beatrice? After I leave this room, there will be no more mention of this. You will keep your mouth shut or your father will have a little accident when he flies home tomorrow from Nevada."_

 _I gasped. Shauna and Hana did too._

 _"_ _You'd … you'd kill him?" I asked, horrified._

 _"_ _I do have a few inside pilots who owe me a favor," Marcus replied thoughtfully. "Wouldn't kill him, of course, just put him in surgery. Well, he might die. Possibilities are open, Beatrice."_

 _"_ _Don't call me that," I said threateningly._

 _Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, Shauna locked eye contact with Zeke and nodded triumphantly._

 _"_ _All right, Marcus," she said. "After you leave. But please don't leave yet. You are wise, a great politician. Give us some … some more details about how you raise your son."_

 _Shauna didn't even have to lay the flattery on thick. Marcus cleared his throat, trying to act modest._

 _"_ _Well, you see, the problem with nowadays kids is that they think they can do whatever the hell they want, see? So ya gotta beat the secrets and truths outta them. Use an oak whip; beech and pine whips have absolutely no effect. And screw those stories with horsetail whips. No effect either. You have to buy fine leather from a store, see? Ya whip the kids twice a day. Wife too. Ya gotta show 'em who's boss." Even though Shauna was the one who'd asked the question, Marcus was mainly talking to Hana. His voice was casual, like a cowboy's._

 _"_ _But 'member, kids and Hana, any talk 'bout this after will get poor Mr. Prior in a lot of pain." Marcus smiled evilly. "But what could you do anyway? There's no proof of anything; no one would believe you. As far as most everyone knows, I'm a gentle, selfless father who only wants the best for his city – and his son." Marcus spat on the marble floor, and Hana balked indignantly, but didn't interrupt._

 _I did, though. "That's plain cruel. Do you have no heart?"_

 _Marcus considered it. "Evelyn took it," he spat. "She took my life; my soul. She woulda taken my son if I hadn't grabbed his shoulder and prevented him from leaving. It's what made him hate me all the while, even though I was only protecting him." His voice broke, and this time I could tell it wasn't fake. "She even took Four's little baby sister. Well, she was pregnant at the time. Everyone told Four that Evelyn had died in childbirth. But she ran away. With the baby. We hadn't named her yet, but we knew she was a girl. I wanted Sarah, a nice, plain selfless girl's name_ **(no offense to anyone named Sarah who's, I guess, not nice, not plain, and not selfless. That just sounded wrong. Sorry. Let's continue.)** _But old Evelyn had to say 'no, no, my daughter should have a beautiful, splendid name. Like the ocean.' Evelyn had an obsession with the blue, sparkling ocean. She wanted the girl's name to be Shannon. It reminded her of the sparkling blue water. I think that's what split us apart at the end. Shannon, Sarah. Well, Evelyn ran away with the kid. She took a piece of me away. I felt … I dunno … empty, I guess."_

 _I wanted to feel sorry for Marcus, but he had just admitted to physically beating Four. How could I feel sorry for him?_

 _"_ _Remember, no word of this outside," Marcus warned. "Or Daddy goes boom-boom. I'm serious, Beatrice. Don't cross me."_

 _Four stepped out from the doorway. "Hello, Father."_

 _My eyes widened in amazement. Four had a straight posture and confident features, but the most incredible thing was that he held a video camera in his hand. A huge TV video camera. One that had a CNN sticker on the side._

 _"_ _This camera was put in my hands by Zeke, who conveniently took from the cameraman who cared so much about blond-haired Lisa. He wouldn't need it anyway. But you have currently broadcasted all your deepest, darkest secrets about abusing me onto CNN. Thousands of people are watching this around the world." Four smiled in triumph. "Security!" he called. "Take Marcus Eaton away!"_

 _Two bulky security men marched into the house and grabbed one of Marcus's arms each._

 _Marcus turned pale. "No! No, this can't be happening! Curse you, Tobias! What did I ever do to you?"_

 _"_ _Well, you beat me," Four answered casually. "You abused me, physically and emotionally. Guys," he said, looking at us. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth. But I was too scared. Marcus has a huge amount of followers and inside men everywhere. When you defy Marcus, you can't be sure you'll be safe anywhere. But Marcus will have no means of communications anymore, and no one will be able to get to us while you're with me."_

 _Shauna hugged Four tightly. "Thanks, Four. What would we do without you?"_

 _"_ _Be happy?" Marcus yelled, and those were his last words on the Pedrads' property as he was herded into a police car and driven away in handcuffs._

 _Four sighed. "Don't mind him. He's a bit embarrassing at times."_

 _I don't know who started it, or why it was even funny, but all of a sudden, we all started to laugh. Hana, Shauna, Zeke, Uriah, Four, and I. Zeke and Shauna hugged, Uriah high-fived Four, and Hana embraced me warmly._

 _"_ _Thank you, Tris," she whispered in my ear. "You really have changed."_

 _I felt all warm inside._

 _"_ _Thanks, Hana," I replied. "That means a lot."_

 _And it did._

 _Suddenly my phone rang. I yanked it out and realized … it was Susan's. I realized she'd been calling me since I came onto the Pedrads' property._

 _I picked up immediately._

 _"_ _Su?" I asked excitedly. "You OK?"_

 _"_ _Tris!" Susan exclaimed, but in a hushed voice. "Oh, thank God you answered. Tris, I'm in big trouble. Listen. There's this guy called David who is watching you. Your phone is tapped and he can access you at any point. He kidnapped me and he's about to kill me. I'm locked in a bathroom until he's ready. He said he would be grabbing a 'very special friend' of mine. He means you, Tris. You're in danger. You need to trash your phone."_

 _"_ _What?" I asked, shocked. "Susan!"_

 _"_ _Tris, I don't know how much time I have left." Susan's voice sounded like she had been crying. "Are you in a safe place?"_

 _I looked around at my friends – Shauna, Hana, Zeke, Uriah. Then I looked at Four, who'd taken out three huge bullies at the cafeteria at once._

 _"_ _Yeah," I said._

 _"_ _Great. Don't leave it. This will be the last time I talk to you on the phone. I'm probably going to die soon and I can't risk another call. Listen. Trash your phone and your parents.' Grab the person you trust the most and drive to a place called Sunnyfield Meadows. Believe it or not, it's right outside Chicago, not even close to Maine. In the middle of the meadows, there's a brightly painted house that looks really pretty and great. It's where David lives, and where he's keeping me captive. I'm in the basement, farthest door to the right. Get me out and we can work together to knock out David's three thugs – Matthew, Amar, and Bud. Oh, and his wife Nita too. Oh no. David's coming, Tris. I have to go. Please come soon. Don't forget to wreck all your electronics. They're all tapped. Bye. I love you, Tris."_

 _Then Susan hung up._

 _I sat down, unable to believe what I was hearing._

 _"_ _You OK, Tris?" Zeke asked._

 _"_ _Yeah," I said. What was it Susan had said? 'Bring the person you trust the most?'_

 _I made a decision. "Four, come with me. We have to rescue Susan."_

 _Four didn't hesitate. "Come on. We can take Shauna's Porsche."_

 _"_ _Hey!" Shauna exclaimed._

 _"_ _This is way important," Four told Shauna. "I'm sorry. We'll try and return it."_

 _Then he jogged out the door._

 _Shauna looked at me. "Tris, you have an admirer."_

 _"_ _What?" I asked._

 _"_ _Don't be so clueless," Shauna told me. "Four likes you. He wouldn't just randomly trust anyone when they said they needed to rescue their best friend from practically across the country." I turned pale, and she shoved me. "Go! Don't let me ruin your quality time with lovey-boy Four!" she teased._

 _I glared at her and ran out the door._

 _Four leapt into the front seat. "Where we goin'?" he asked._

 _"Sunnyfield Meadows, I think," I said. "My best friend's life is at stake. Hit the gas."_

 _Four did more than that. He slammed the gas, sending the car rocketing out of its parking space and plowing through the scattering, screaming group of reporters. He made sure he didn't hurt anyone, though._

 _Four steered onto the road, shooting down it like a bullet._

 _"_ _Do you even know where Sunnyfield Meadows is?" I asked in amazement._

 _"'_ _Course I do. Christina drags me there to pick berries every spring," Four said, rolling his eyes._

 _"_ _Why do you trust me so much?" I asked curiously. Shauna's words that he liked me were sticking in my brain._

 _Four cracked a half-smile. "I dunno. It's just … you're so likable," he said._

 _"_ _You're approachable," I responded. "Like a bed of nails."_ **(Sound familiar?)**

 _Four snorted. "Careful. Just 'cuz we're kinda friends now doesn't mean you can flirt with me."_

 _"_ _What?" I asked, appalled. "I do not flirt with you!"_

 _"_ _Bet you think you're repulsed by me still," Four replied. "But I know the truth." He turned onto the highway, speeding down it. "You like me, don't you, Tris?"_

 _"_ _No!" I exclaimed. "That's gross. Let's just end this conversation. Now."_

 _"_ _Agreed," Four concluded, blushing. "This was … kind of awkward."_

 _"_ _So shut up!" I exclaimed._

 _After a few really awkward minutes, Four parked in a bunch of daisies. "C'mon, Tris. We need to hurry. If you're telling the truth, then lives are at stake here."_

 _"_ _One life," I corrected._

 _"_ _Whatever. Let's find whatever you're looking for. What is that exactly?"_

 _"_ _Big, welcoming, pretty house in the center of the meadows," I remembered._

 _"_ _All righty then. Let's go save your best friend's life."_

 **End of Part 2**

 **Part 3 Coming Soon!**

 **Be brave.**


	24. Chapter 21 Part 3

**This isn't a very long chapter. My apologies. I had to split a 3,300 word chapter into two and add to the second half, which is the next chapter. I'll try and update again soon, but my WiFi's low. Enjoy!**

 **Part 3**

 _I glanced at Four. Truth was, I still didn't really like him. But we had to be friends at least a bit so we could rescue Susan._

 _Four jogged. I wanted to walk, but Four pushed me._

 _"_ _C'mon, Tris! Susan's life is at stake!" he encouraged me, which was a great cheerleading chant._

 _I broke into a run. It's Four's light jog, but it was a good pace for me and Four was apparently willing to do anything except walk._

 _Soon we came into sight of the big, pretty house in the center of the meadow. Four glanced at me._

 _"_ _Listen to me, Tris. I'm going to put my arm around your waist so nothing can happen to you," he said nervously. "But just so you know, I'm not attracted to you in any way at all."_

 _I blushed. "Anything to save Susan," I said, and he wrapped an arm around me, holding me to him protectively._

 _We walked quickly up the porch steps._

 _"_ _Don't knock," he told me quickly. "We're going to try and do this stealthily, so the kidnappers don't know what hit them."_

 _Four tried to open the door. It was locked, obviously._

 _"_ _Oh, to hell with stealth," Four said in annoyance. Stepping back a bit, he kicked down the door. Literally. The door came off its hinges and fell inside the house._

 _Four brushed off his hands. "Seriously, people, if you're gonna kidnap someone, do it with a little more security," he joked. Four? Joking? Was that even possible?_

 _He lifted me into his arms regally, stepped over the door, and set me down._

 _"_ _What the hell was that?" I asked, stunned._

 _"_ _Just … didn't want you getting any splinters," he said really nervously, then wraps his arm around me again._

 _I shook it off_ **(shake it off, shake it off, oh, oh! Yay T-Swift!)** _. "Four, stop. I can … take care of myself, OK? Stop touching me."_

 _He blushed a lot. "Sorry … Tris."_

 _I rolled my eyes. "Come on."_

 _The inside of the house was the opposite of the outside. It was so not cheery or anything. The walls were gray and dreary. There weren't even any pictures on the wall. Just the drab gray color. Stairs going up and stairs going down. That was it._

 _Suddenly, a tall, pretty girl and a muscled man ran down the stairs and faced Four and I._

 _"_ _Who're you?" the girl demanded. "This is so not berry-picking season. Get." She jabbed at the doorway, saw the door has been kicked down, and paled. "OK, I'm guessing you've come for Susan. Or any other thirty victims. Too bad. You're not getting her. Or anyone else."_

 _I nudged Four, but he was frozen, staring at the tall, muscled man standing next to the girl._

 _"_ _A-Amar?" he stuttered. "But" –_

 _"_ _Four!" The guy, who was apparently called Amar, opened his arms for a bear hug mockingly. "You again! And you've brought a sweetie!"_

 _Four breathed hard. "But – but h-how" –_

 _"_ _Dude! An act. Kid, shape up. You helped us, you know. You're one of us. Did ya tell the sweetie that?"_

 _"_ _Okay, one, I am not a sweetie," I said sharply, stepping forward. "And two, how the hell do you two know each other?"_

 _"_ _Amar … he taught me how to code, and how to control cameras and stuff," Four said, expressionless. "And … he works here? He kidnaps people?"_

 _"_ _Hey, Four," Amar said, smiling easily. "I saw tech potential in you. I taught you the basics, and you soared ahead with incredible ideas that I never would have thought of!"_

 _I looked from Four to Amar. "Wait – what?"_

 _"_ _Tell your girl to be quiet," Amar said dismissively. "This is a man's talk."_

 _Four raised a fist, regaining control of the situation. "Don't speak about Tris that way. All right, you scoundrel. You have five seconds to lead us to Susan or this fist goes right into your face."_

 _Amar pouted jokingly. "Four, really. We both know you would never dare to hurt me. I saved you once, remember?"_

 _Four paled. "Yeah, but" –_

 _"_ _Marcus was about to beat you again," Amar cut in, retelling a story I have no idea about. "The day was June 9_ _th_ _. You ran out of the house for the fourth time and ran right in front of a car. I saw you and tackled you to the other side so the car wouldn't hit you. You promised me that was the last time you would run from your house. I pretended not to know that Marcus physically abused you. You promised, and I nicknamed you Four to symbolize you had been brave four times, and now you were going to be brave many, many more times than four in a totally different way. The nickname stuck, and, well … You liked it better than Tobias. But I saved your life, Four, and you owe me. You'd never really hurt me."_

 _Four growled. It was a deep, scary sound. The tall, pretty girl cowered._

 _"_ _Who's_ your _sweetie?" I asked obnoxiously, using my "spoiled" skills to antagonize Amar and the girl standing next to him._

 _"_ _Not mine," Amar replied stiffly. "This is Nita. She's David's wife."_

 _"_ _Enough with the chitchat," Nita said. She produced two pairs of handcuffs. "Now, if y'all will kindly place your hands behind your backs, this won't be a struggle at all."_

 _"_ _And if we don't?" Four challenged._

 _"_ _Then this bullet goes right through Beatrice Prior's brain," a cold voice said from behind us. Four spun around and I did too, accidentally knocking the gunpoint away from me._

 _A man had snuck up behind us. He looked old and is gray-haired, but had a fierce look on his face. He recovered his gun quickly and pointed it at my head._

 _Four gasped and drew a breath._

 _"_ _All right, whatever your name is," Four said in defeat. "C'mere, Nita, put those handcuffs on."_

 _"_ _I'm David, by the way," the guy holding the gun said. "And you do not want to cross me."_

 _Nita smiled and brought the silver handcuffs right to Four's wrists. I couldn't believe Four wasn't doing anything to protect me or him. I mean, sure, I had a gun pointed at my head from a crazy weirdo who supposedly was tracking us with our electronics, but still. It wasn't like Four not to give it a try._

 _I was right. As soon as Nita opened the handcuffs, Four snatched them, threw them on the floor and wrapped his hands around her throat quick as lightning._

 _"_ _It appears we are at a draw," Four said calmly. "You are willing to shoot Tris, and I am willing to strangle Nita. Amar, lie facedown on the floor."_

 _Amar hesitated and glanced at his boss._

 _"_ _Do it," David said, sounding tired. "Nita must not be harmed."_

 _Amar planted himself on the ground, facedown._

 _A tall, thin man rushed down the stairs. "What's happening, sir?"_

 _"_ _Matthew!" David exclaimed. "Really! What have I told you about SURPRISE ATTACKS?"_

 _Matthew smiled sheepishly. "My bad, sir. You know my strength is for science."_

 _"_ _I know it all too well," David muttered. "Now, lie down on the floor next to Amar. This boy here has threatened – and is capable of – harming Nita. And although I can shoot Beatrice at a second's notice, I have no doubt Four will kill Nita within thirty seconds of Beatrice's death. Therefore, we are at a … stalemate."_

 _"_ _Well, sir, why don't you just shoot the girl and then the boy quickly, so he doesn't have time to strangle Nita?" Matthew asked innocently. "According to my calculations, that would work, judging by the boy's strength and ability to strangle quickly."_

 _David cursed. "You damned idiot! Shut the hell up and keep your damn mouth SHUT. You just ruined our chance."_

 _Matthew grimaced. "Sorry, sir."_

 _"_ _You're on prisoner duty now," David responded sharply. "Now get your damned face into the carpet. Lie down, you moron!"_

 _Four slid around so he was at Nita's back. "There is no guarantee now that you will hit me and not Nita," he said smoothly. "In fact, there is a ninety-five percent chance you will hit her instead of me if you fire."_

 _"_ _You fool," David muttered to Matthew. Then, louder, he said, "Very well then. I suppose you have an idea as to how to resolve this stalemate?"_

 _"_ _Yes," Four replied pleasantly. He was great at controlling his temper. Meanwhile, I just wanted to get to Susan, but it was kind of hard to do that, as I was under the threat of death._

 _"_ _Please, enlighten me," David said sarcastically._

 _"_ _You remove your gun from Tris and throw it as far as you can down the hall," Four answered. "I will release my hold on Nita. The handcuffs will be placed on Amar and Matthew, as I wish to resolve this only with you, Tris, and Nita."_

 _Nita batted her eyelashes at him. "Surely that is unfair … darling," she crooned._

 _Four rolled his eyes in disgust. "Back off or I'll strangle you regardless of the truce I just proposed," he said, wrinkling his nose._

 _Nita scowled. "Worth a shot, David. Sorry."_

 _"_ _Shut it," David snapped. "I'm thinking." He paused. "So you're saying we both release our threats? Then what?"_

 _"_ _Then we handcuff Amar and Matthew," Four repeated. "Then I play a game."_

 _"_ _What?" David sneered._

 _"_ _You code the hardest, most difficult, next-to-impossible tap on my phone," Four said seriously. "Put your best effort into it. You've been practicing for years. Then, I get three hours to try and decode the tap. If I can do it, we take Susan and get out of here. If I can't, feel free to take us prisoners."_

 _My phone rang, like on cue. I see on the caller ID that it's Susan._

 _Dammit! I forgot to throw my phone away._

 _I hit answer._

 _"_ _Hello?" I asked professionally, trying not to let David see I was calling his prisoner._

 _"_ _Hey. I found a way out of the prisoners room. I see you. Pretend you're talking to someone else."_

 _I had an idea. "Look, now is not the right time to be asking me about … mattresses," I said. "Is there a possible way you can … COME OVER TO MY HOUSE NOW?"_

 _I was trying to signal that Susan needed to come out and help me. I was seriously scared under gunpoint._

 _"_ _No, I'm sorry," Susan said, giggling. "Mattress stores do not deliver."_

 _"_ _Seriously, I, uh, always wanted a comfy mattress," I improvised._

 _"_ _Tris," Susan said. "Four's plan is onto something. Without Matthew, Amar, and Nita, David's good, but not great. Four shouldn't have a problem decoding the tap."_

 _"_ _Great, um, mattresses!" I said brightly. "Look, I have to go. I'll be PICKING UP THE MATTRESS IN A DAY OR TWO."_

 _"_ _Bye."_

 _"_ _Bye!" I hit the end button and glanced at David triumphantly._

 _"_ _Mattresses?" David sneered. "Like you'll live to see the day."_

 _Four cleared his throat. "Might I remind you, David, if you kill Tris, I will kill Nita."_

 _David lowered his gun. "All right."_

 _"_ _Toss it away," Four instructed. David groaned, but picked up the gun and slid it neatly along the floor so it rested a few feet away from us. Four turned a bit so Nita was a shield for him against David._

 _"_ _Farther," Four said._

 _David didn't even complain. Apparently his devotion to Nita was huge, because he tossed it so far away, I could barely see it anymore._

 _"_ _All right," Four said reluctantly. He let go of Susan. "Here's my phone." He handed it to David. "Tap it, code a block for calling one of my friends, and let's see if I can undo it."_

 _Susan crept around the corner. I could barely recognize her. In the month and a half that I'd last seen her, she'd become so dirty, wearing overalls, and her hair was totally messed up. She placed a finger on her lips. Apparently I was the only one who'd seen her._

 _Suddenly, another man entered silently, too. He was big and bulky and covered in tattoos. He approached Four from behind, stealthily._

 _"_ _Four," I warned. "Alert – big muscled guy behind you."_

 **End of Part 3**

 **Part 4 Coming Soon!**

 **Please review!**

 **Be brave.**


	25. Chapter 21 Part 4

**I'm really tired and it's late, so no long author's note. Please review!**

 **Chapter 21 Part 4**

 _Four spun around, saw the guy getting ready to attack, and spin-kicked him._

 _The room dissolved into chaos._

 _The dude recovered instantly, while David ran towards his gun. Nita screamed._

 _"_ _Bud! You OK? Fight him!"_

 _Amar and Matthew leapt up to their feet and took hold of both my arms. I struggled as much as I could, but they grasped me firmly and began hauling me in Susan's direction._

 _"_ _Four!" I shouted. "Help!"_

 _Four glanced at me. He was currently engaged in a karate match with Bud, each of them trying to gain the upper hand. When Four took his eyes off Bud for just one second, Bud seized his chance – literally. He grabbed Four's arms and flipped him._

 _I hadn't ever seen Four beaten before. At school, he had beat the bullies, no prob. But this was different. Bud was a hugely muscled guy, probably trained for fighting. He knew so much more than Four._

 _As Four landed on his back, he shrieked with pain._

 _"_ _My back!" he cried. I realized he must have landed and his whip marks from Marcus took the impact. I cursed, but there was nothing I could do. Amar and Matthew were taking me to the "prisoners room."_

 _Susan darted in front of them. "Oh no you don't, you geeks!" she shouted. She delivered a swift uppercut to Matthew's chin and kicked at Amar's legs. He collapsed and Matthew moaned._

 _"_ _They're weak!" Susan said to me. "They're not trained to fight. But I am. Robert had taken me to a karate-teaching class the day I was kidnapped. You know, for a job."_

 _"_ _OMG, that's amazing!" I exclaimed. Susan stared at me oddly._

 _"_ _Sorry," she confessed. "It's weird that you're not being spoiled anymore. I'm glad you're not, but I have to get used to it."_

 _"_ _Me too," I admitted._

 _"_ _I brought rope," Susan said. "From just outside the prisoners room. You know, to tie Amar and Matthew up. Do you know how to tie good knots?"_

 _My spoiled side began to come back. "Of course I do," I said snottily. Susan raised an eyebrow, and I recovered myself. "No, I don't."_

 _"_ _Then stop David from getting that gun!" Susan exclaimed. David was crawling towards the gun, far away, trying not to be noticed. I ran to him and kicked him in the ass._

 _"_ _Ouch!" he exclaimed. I heard grunts from Four and Susan too as they struggled with their opponents, but I had to concentrate on not letting David get that gun._

 _David was on his hands and knees. He was pretty old, so he groaned as he tried to get up, and clutched at his butt where I had kicked him, which was pretty funny. I ran to the gun and picked it up._

 _"_ _Don't hold it," David gasped. "It's fully loaded. Oh crap! Why did I just tell her that? Now she knows she can shoot me! I'm as bad as my employees! Well, not Bud, but still!"_

 _"_ _Tris!" I heard Four's strained shouting and spun around. He was pinned down by Bud. Susan had successfully tied Amar and Matthew up, but Bud was hauling Four over to them, probably so he could untie his colleagues and tie up Four and Susan instead – and then me._

 _"_ _I know you don't know how and you've never shot before – but you have to shoot David!" Four shouted. "It's the only way we won't all get killed!"_

 _The world blurred around me. Was Four really suggesting … that I kill someone?_

 _"_ _It's hard, I know!" Four yelled. "But Bud's got us all beat! I'm telling you, it's the only way! Please!" His voice cracked. "Do it for me. For Christina. For Caleb. For your parents. For your dad, who's coming home tomorrow. It doesn't have to be a fatal shot. Shoot him in the arm, or the foot. I'm sorry, Tris. I wish it didn't have to be this way."_

 _I glance at David's terrified face. I leap on him, so he can't escape. Standing with one foot on his stomach, I take a deep breath._

 _"_ _All right," I said, and my voice cracked._

 _"_ _Wait – there is another way!" Four shouted. "Get the other pris-" His voice was cut off as Bud smothered his mouth with a huge hand._

 _Pris- Wait. Prisoners?_

 _I didn't have to harm David after all. He'd put the pieces together too, and laughed. "Such a coward, Tris," he laughed. "You'll never find the key either." His eyes widened and he cursed. "Sh*t! Again! Again with the damned talking!"_

 _"_ _All I have to do is get that key from you," I said calmly. "Then I can get the other prisoners out and they'll go against you. We'll have you way outnumbered."_

 _"_ _But you won't be able to do anything if you won't shoot that gun," David said. "The prisoners aren't trained to fight either – No! Damn all this talking! Sh*t!"_

 _My eyes widened. I had never heard someone cursing like that before. I had always hated cursing, for some reason. Well, actual cursewords, not "hell" or "damn."_

 _"_ _Shut your mouth," I ordered. I didn't know where this bravery was coming from, but I had a faint idea. It seems so clear now that I'm out of all this mess, but still. This is a journal, albeit mental (seriously, who says albeit?). No spoilers! "Shut your mouth or I really will shoot you."_

 _David paled. "Okay."_

 _"_ _Tris, getting the prisoners out is impossible!" Susan shouted, but then she too was muffled. Now it was just David and I._

 _Suddenly David's eyes lit up. He looked behind me, and I did too. Amar and Matthew were stealthily approaching me. When they saw that I had seen them, they lunged for me._

 _I had seen this move on TV. I stepped calmly off David as soon as they jumped for me._

 _They all piled on top of David. It was hilarious. Matthew grunted. "Got her!"_

 _"_ _No, you ass, you got_ me _!" David cursed again. "Tris stepped out of the way!"_

 _Amar and Matthew tried to get up, but I stepped on all of them._

 _"_ _Three down," I said triumphantly. "Literally."_

 _"_ _Tris!" Susan yelled. "I'm coming!" She ran over to me and grinned at the mass of wriggling bodies on the floor. "Fantastic. I have the rope." She produced coils of rope. "Four grabbed Bud's ankle and threw him to the floor, catching him by surprise. He's holding Bud down with handcuffs. Come on. Help me tie these nasties up."_

 _She bent down and began looping the ropes around ankles, wrists, and tying them back-to-back. She completed the job with handcuffs and anklecuffs, which had been lying on the floor since the beginning. When Susan was done, David, Amar, and Matthew looked as trussed-up as rodeo cows and as disgruntled as … well, as evil masterminds whose plans had just been defeated. Totally wiped._

 _"_ _Tris." Susan shoved a set of keys into my hands. "There are a zillion of these keys all around the house. Only one key can unlock the prisoners. The others are all fake. Four didn't know that, but I do, and that's why it's impossible. Tris. I'm going to have to torture David."_

 _"_ _No." I said it very, very calmly. "That's not the way. There's some other way. I know it."_

 _"_ _Tris, be realistic," Susan exclaimed. "You've gone from totally uncaring about anyone in the world to 'I can never hurt an evil person.' That's too far. I'm sorry. Do you have a better idea?"_

 _"_ _Yes," I said. "Yes, I do."_

 _As soon as I said that I had an idea, Susan's eyes widened. Oh, how I had missed her expressions. "Really? What?"_

 _I glanced at the three men wriggling on the floor, trying to get rid of the rope and handcuffs._

 _"_ _Where's Nita?" was my simple response._

 _Susan's eyes lit up. "Tris, you're a genius! I'll go find her."_

 _"_ _Wait – you don't know where she is?"_

 _"_ _No, she got away when Four and I overcame Bud," Susan replied. "But I can find her. See ya!"_

 _Susan darted off, out of the room. I glanced down at David._

 _"Listen to me, scumbag," I snarled. "If you don't do what I say, you are going to regret it. Susan is going to find Nita, and then you'll spill, won't you?"_

 _David smiled. It was eerie, creepy. "Poor child, Beatrice. Susan will never be found." He nudged himself comfortably between Amar and Matthew, despite being tied back-to-back with them. "And when I get out of these bonds, I will release my full wrath upon you."_

 _"_ _OK, not scared at all," I said. I was beginning to have an idea about how I could be so brave in the face of so much danger and fear. "The only thing I'm scared of is your face. You're seriously ugly, man. Have you ever heard of a makeover?"_

 _David gasped. "How dare you?"_

 _"_ _I dare because I'm not afraid of what you think," I said confidently. "I'm not just some kid you can fool easily. I am queen right now, and if you don't do what I say – off with your head!"_

 _It was just a joke, but I delivered it seriously, and David paled, bravado gone._

 _"_ _I'm sorry, Beatrice," he said contritely. "Please don't hurt me."_

 _"_ _We'll start off with you calling me Tris, do you understand?"_

 _"_ _Yes," David squeaked._

 _"_ _Good." I was stern and unmerciful, and I was loving it._

 _"_ _Tris!" Susan was panting hard. "Tris, Nita rounded up some other thugs who work for David. We're in big trouble."_

 _I despaired. "Oh no! Um, how far away are they?"_

 _Nita opened the door that led to this room. "C'mon, over here, boys," she called._

 _Susan turned an ash gray color. "How's right about now sound to you?"_

 _Thirty well-kept, uniformed men marched into the room. They didn't have guns, but their muscles were huge in their biceps. And triceps. And legs. Oh, the hell, they were totally ripped everywhere in their bodies!_

 _Five of them hauled Four off Bud. I wanted to shout out, but didn't want to give David the satisfaction of seeing or hearing me afraid._

 _I was suddenly overcome by confusion. Instead of pushing Four to the ground, two of the very attractive, muscled men protected him like bodyguards – yes, protected him – and the other three pinned Bud down._

 _Not that Four took that well. He fought with them, saying, "I don't need babysitters! I'm a black belt in karate! I escaped my dad's whips for years by physical self-defense! I can take care of myself! Get the hell off of me!"_

 _David had been grinning in triumph, but when he saw the men pinning down Bud, he frowned. "What –"_

 _"_ _That's right," Nita interrupted, marching into the room. Surrounding her were bodyguard-looking guys in black suits and sunglasses, like the Secret Service or something. "You're done, David."_

 _David gasped. "Wait – Nita, you betrayed me?"_

 _"_ _Little slow to catch on, David," Nita replied swiftly. "I've been gathering this army of men and women for years now. Yes, women. Right now they're rigging deadly booby-traps every few feet around the house. If you want to emerge out of this house alive and in one piece, you will surrender to me. Right now. Or I'll take Four, Tris, Susan and the rest of the poor prisoners you have been tyrants to out of here, leaving you to die. Alone."_

 _"_ _Wait – Nita, I don't get it," I said. "You're on our side?"_

 _"_ _I'm on Four's side," Nita replied, batting her eyelashes at him. "Not yours."_

 _"_ _But … Four and I are on the same side," I answered, puzzled._

 _Nita rolled her eyes. "Damn, girl, you just do not take a hint. Let me explain it to you in your language." She raised her voice loudly and spoke slowly, pointing to each person as she spoke. "Four and me. Together. You. Butt out of our relationship. Got it, Clueless?"_

 _I glanced at Four. He raised his hands in defense._

 _"_ _Wait a minute. Nita, you're married," Four said in disgust. "This is all so gross. Aren't you, like, forty?"_

 _Nita's eyes widened and she gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish's. "Four, I'm seventeen."_

 _Four yelped and jumped back. "Married? At seventeen? To, like, a seventy year-old?"_

 _"_ _Hey!" David shouted. "I'm forty! That's really offensive!"_

 _"_ _David isn't actually my husband," Nita explained. "We're siblings, but we pretend we're married because otherwise people start asking questions."_

 _"_ _Yeah, like why you are faking your marriage to make it easier to explain that a seventy year-old is siblings with a seventeen year-old? It really doesn't make it much simpler," I cut in sarcastically._

 _"_ _Hello, it's forty!" David called._

 _Nita waved an elegant, slim, perfectly manicured hand in disgust. "Enough with the chitter-chatter. Men, retie my brother, Amar, and Matthew. Bud can be tied separately. Tie him to the fireplace and light it. That won't make him eager to haul it away – if he can."_

 _Things kind of happened in a blur after that. David and his accomplices got handcuffed, ankle-cuffed, and trussed up all around. Bud's eyes had widened when the fireplace was lit. Nita had told me that he had a deep fear of fire. Nita released the other prisoners from David's cells. They had been dirty and bedraggled, and each was given twenty minutes to shower with hot water. At some point, I was grabbed by Susan and shook fiercely._

 _"_ _Oh, I'm so glad you're here!" she'd said excitedly._

 _We hugged._

 _After a few hours of watching everyone get settled, it was time to go. Nita promised she would fly on a plane back to Maine with Susan, who would be reunited with her family, and take care of legal matters. I wasn't sure how much I could trust that promise._

 **End of Part 4**

 **Part 5 Coming Soon!**


	26. Chapter 21 Part 5

**Okay, so this is going to be a little bit confusing. Basically, I've made a bunch of typos with the names of the chapters. Chapter 21 is divided into 5 parts, the last one in this chapter. However, once this is published, I will be calling the next chapter Chapter 26, and the next one 27, and so on, because it makes it** ** _so_** **much easier.**

 **This chapter is a tiny short one. I'm very sorry. I had to cut some of the last parts from Chapter 21 Part 4 because my Document Manager wouldn't let me submit a very long chapter. So this is the part I had to cut out. I'm really sorry, again. I'll try and update soon.**

 **Since this is a tiny chapter, it is the perfect time for Negative Review Chapter. Basically, anyone who has something bad to say about this story, say it in this chapter's reviews. Please begin your review by writing "Negative Review Chapter Submittance." If you provide me with sufficient ideas for how to improve my story if you don't like it, I will hopefully take those suggestions and put them in my story. If you just have negative reviews with no suggestions, don't expect me to change anything that you want to be changed, because ... well, you didn't tell me what to change.**

 **Don't let me hold you any longer. Without further ado, the last chapter of Tris's journal! Happy Negative Review Day!**

 **Part 5**

 _Four drove me home. It was kind of nice of him to do that, as he could have just dropped me off at the Pedrads' house and gotten one of the girls to drive me home. But no, Four literally parked Shauna's car right outside my house and walked right up to it. Seriously, how do people get my address around here? I swear, I never said it once. Gossip, I guess._

 _But Four leapt out of the car in a flash and helped me get out of the car in a gentlemanly way. Then he took my hand, grasped it hard, and walked me up to my house._

 _Quickly, he released my hand and shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. "Um, do you have a key to the house?" he asked._

 _"_ _Oh, uh, yeah," I said, drawing out my key. I slipped it in the keyhole._

 _"_ _My parents are gonna be freaked," I said. "I've been out for hours without telling them."_

 _"_ _It was worth it," Four replied. He smiled. Yep, a real smile._

 _"_ _I know you hate me," he said. "I know you think I'm selfish. Angry. Commanding in a bad way. But think: If I am exactly how you describe, why have I saved you so many times?"_

 _I hesitated. "'Cuz … ugh. I got nothing."_

 _"_ _Think about that," Four said, and jogged back to Shauna's Porsche._

 _My mom was out, so I went up to my room._

 _I'm sitting on my bed right now, doing what Four wanted me to. Thinking. Thinking about everything that happened. I keep reliving the moments David had his gun to my head. I had never been so close to death as I was then, and I had been terrified. I am trying to get it all into my head and store it, therefore, that is why I'm writing this mental journal. My pen and journal is black now. I can't visualize it any other way. But it is black like the gun I was threatened with. Black like the gun I myself threatened with. I can't get all the moments out of my head, even if I tried. It was all too violent, too scary._

 _Here's the thing: I promised I would tell you how I could command David to do what I wanted._

 _It was because I was spoiled. I knew how to talk to people with a condescending, "I'm so much better than you" tone. I would be so sure of myself, others would start to doubt themselves. That's what I did to David._

 _Being spoiled and rude did come in handy after all._

 _Who would have guessed?_

 **End Of Journal**

 **Be brave.**


	27. Chapter 27

**And what is up, folks? Sorry for the late chapter, I forgot this one was still in line. Hope you enjoy and please review!**

 **Oh, and btw, I'm not sure whether to be offended or pleased that no one reviewed on Negative Review Chapter/Day.**

 **Happy New Year!**

I finish writing my mental journal.

It's weird, I know. Writing a journal inside my head when I can write with a real paper and pen, it's not usually what people do. But I feel like this way, no one can read my thoughts.

 _Signing off,_ I imagine the pen writing in my mind. _Tris Prior._

"Tris!" a voice calls. "Tris, are you here?"

I leap off my bed. "Mom! I'm in my room!"

Footsteps can be heard pounding on the stairs, then my mother barges into the room, sees me, runs to me, and wraps me in a bear hug.

"Oh, Tris!" she sobs. "Where have you been?"

My mother? Sobbing? Is this even possible?

"Mom, I'm OK. Don't worry," I say uncomfortably.

"Hana Pedrad said that you and the boy who put you in the hospital had driven off to save Susan from kidnappers who had tapped our phones and been watching us. How am I not supposed to worry?" She laughs a watery laugh and hugs me even tighter. "Oh, sweetie."

I look at my mother, grasping me tightly with tears streaming down her face, and say, "You OK?"

"I … yeah, I'm OK." Mom sniffles. "I just … I love you so much, Tris. I was so scared that I'd lose you."

I smile, relieved. "Well, OK then. But I'm fine. Everything's great now. Susan was saved and all David's prisoners were released. David's going to jail with his accomplices and I didn't even have to kill him."

Mom freezes. "You _what?"_

"Long story," I say, sighing.

"We have time," Mom says, eyes gleaming as she usually does at the prospect of an interesting, exciting story. She releases me and sits on my bed. "Tell me all of it."

So I spend the next hour recalling all of what happened: Susan's phone call to me at the Pedrads' house, Four driving me to David's house, the fight between Four and Bud (my mom says, "Wow, Four seems like a really nice guy." How clueless she is), and everything that happened after that. At the part where Four tells me to shoot David, that it's the only way to beat him, my throat closes up a bit and I see the events happening before my eyes. Mom doesn't bother me as I shiver and recall Four saying, "It's hard, I know! But Bud's got us all beat! I'm telling you, it's the only way! Please!" His voice had cracked. "Do it for me. For Christina. For Caleb. For your parents. For your dad, who's coming home tomorrow."

"Speaking of which," I say, coming out of my coma-like state, "Is Dad really coming home tomorrow?"

Mom grins. "Yep. From Nevada."

I hesitate. "Mom … how am I going to tell him that … that I'm not spoiled anymore? That he doesn't have to tread carefully around me? That I know he is so selfless and I want to thank him for it? How do I tell him, Mom?"

Mom smiles. "Be yourself, Tris. Be who you really are."

 _Be who I really am,_ I think. _Who am I?_

Mom squeezes my shoulder. "Well, I have to go call Caleb and tell him you're home. He went out searching for you."

"Did you call the police?" I ask curiously. Mom shakes her head.

"I don't know how, but I somehow knew you would take care of yourself," she says. "You know. Motherly instinct mixed with deep, deep hope for your wellbeing."

"How do you care so much?" I ask suddenly. " _Why?_ Mom, I was a spoiled brat for years. I bossed you around. I was so mean and rude. I see it now, and I regret it with all my heart and might. But … you still loved me. You still _love_ me. After all that, after me screaming and pushing you around and calling you a doormat … you still care. How? How do you love me after I did all those things to you?"

Mom just smiles. "It's what a mother's for, Tris. Even though a father or mother's child might be the rudest, most ungrateful child in the world, it is the father or mother's responsibility to love him or her, and care for him or her. He or she is the mother and father's own flesh and blood. You must, _must_ , love your child, because, as I know from today, you won't have him or her forever."

I begin to cry. I can't help it. Tears spill as I look at my mother, worn out but still glowing, beauty radiating from her. Inner beauty. It might sound silly, but you haven't met my mother. At least, I hope you haven't. That'd be creepy.

She sits there on my bed, perfect posture, wearing her typical nice suit and necklace. Her curly dark brown hair spills down her back, and her green eyes shine.

"I love you, Mom," I whisper.

"I love you too … Beatrice," she says. And at that moment, I become at peace with my birth name. Beatrice. The name my parents gave me because they thought it fit me perfectly.

And it does. "Beatrice," I repeat.

My mother smiles widely at me. "Yes. Beatrice."

We stare into each other's eyes, just looking. Looking and loving.

Then we hug.

It is a simple movement that means so much to me. We both lean forward at the same time and wrap our arms around each other, heads pressed into each other's shoulders. My mother's perfume scent washes over me, and I breathe deeply. It smells so good.

"Beatrice," she whispers. "I have to go."

I nod. "All right, Mom. I have some social media to catch up on, too."

She laughs. A beautiful sound. "How does Chinese takeout sound tonight?"

"It sounds perfect, Mom," I say gratefully. She knows Chinese food is my favorite, but we only go out on weekend nights. "Thanks."

"Sure. Bye, sweetie. I love you!" she says, rises up, and walks to the door.

"I love you too," I say, and then she leaves.

I move over to my laptop. Logging in, I check Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

But my heart's not in it. I check out my friends in Maine, see how they're doing on Twitter. For some reason, it seems boring to me.

Finally, I head to my blog.

Almost no one knows about my blog. I don't usually advertise it. It's a website, **(People, don't actually look that up. It's fake. Hopefully you realized that.)** I don't even think my mom knows about it. I barely post on it, preferring actual social platforms.

But for some reason, the Tris Prior Blog seems to be luring me in.

I look at my last post on the blog.

 _I Am Moving To Chicago. August 31, 2015_

 _I am probably going to hate it. I hate my mom and my dad for making us move. Dad's not even going to be here for the move. He's in Nevada doing lawyer-y stuff. The hell, who really cares? The world revolves around me, because I am the most important person. No one is equal to me. My mom does whatever I want too. Doormat! People are idiots around here. Not that I'm complaining. Or giving a damn about it. I'm leaving this blog for now. Going to my actual fun Internet stuff. Seriously, who invented blogs? Suckers!_

My mouth drops open in surprise. I knew I used to be really mean, but not _that_ mean. I can't believe I ever actually thought that way.

I click **\+ New Post** and write my title as, _I Am So Disappointed At Myself. November 13, 2015_

I pause, then begin typing as fast as my hands will allow me.

 _Hello, readers. I bet you're very few, but the people who do read this will hopefully understand what I mean._

 _I am an idiot._

 _Very, very clear. I look back and see myself being rude. I want to hurt myself. I am the rudest. Everyone has so much fun together. My brother Caleb, despite being a total nerd, still has friends. He is probably closer to his friends than me._

 _What have I done with my life? Why do I care so much about tiny little things that bug me and I have to scream at everyone? Everything has to go my way, but why? What was I thinking when I talked about my family that way? I look back at my other posts and see my very own past self, writing that my mother is a doormat, that I hate my parents. That the world revolves around me._

 _But it doesn't. I'm trying to understand that. I write mental journals. I know, it sounds weird, but I do. I visualize in my brain a journal and pen, and visualize my pen writing words. It's crazy. But the craziest part is, I can actually remember everything I wrote. Like I can 'open' my journal and get quotes from it. My handwriting will still be here._

 _Am I going crazy?_

 _The truth is, I'm scared. I'm scared of what will happen to my life. Have I ruined it already?_

 _Do I deserve a second chance?_

 **Does she?**

 **I think she does. Please review! I so love it when you folks let me know what you think.** **So please please please!**

 **Just saying, Cloning With Tris is open for adoption. If anyone wants to take it, PM me and we'll discuss.**

 **Be brave.**


	28. Chapter 28

**Bam. Getting another chapter out now too. I am rocking this thing! People, please review. I see a lot of people on my Traffic Stats, but I'm getting, like, no reviews. Please, people. It's not that hard. Just press that review button down below and tell me what you think.**

"Tris!" Caleb shouts. "Dad's here!"

I look out my window and see my dad's familiar, worn Acura pull up in the driveway.

I hesitate.

After posting my blog entry yesterday, I'd thought about seeing my dad again. The last time I'd seen him had been the day before moving to Chicago …

 **…** **Flashback …**

 _"_ _Bye Caleb!" Dad said, as he captured my brother in a bear hug. "I'll miss you! Remember, I'm coming back on the fourteenth of December. Big marketing retreat. I'm sorry, son." He glanced at me sharply._

 _"_ _And you, Beatrice, you behave and listen to your mother, do you understand?" he asked sternly._

 _I rolled my eyes. "Like I would ever," I replied. "Once you're gone, it'll be my house! Not yours, not Mom's, mine! Take that!"_

 _A wave of concern flashed over Andrew Prior's face. "Beatrice Prior, I will hear about it if you misbehave. You're done with warnings."_

 _"_ _Hell, like I care," I responded. "What can you do to me?"_

 _He seemed at a loss for words, then, pecking Mom on the cheek, he rushed out the door with his suitcase._

 _"Gotta go! See you all on the fourteenth!" he called._

 _I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. "Oh, yeah. The party is just starting."_

 **…** **End of Flashback …**

How – _how_ – could I have been so rude and not noticed it? _How?_

"Coming, Caleb!" I call.

I run downstairs. I'm wearing blue jeans and a Roth High sweatshirt I got in the mail last night. No makeup. My dad hates it. When he's home, he likes to have the members of his family casual. He says he goes to work too much, and he tries to take advantage of the fact that when he's home, he gets to be relaxed.

My dad unlocks the door with his key.

"Caleb, Beatrice, Natalie!" he calls. "I'm home!"

Caleb runs and hugs my dad, Andrew Prior. "Dad, you're back! How was your trip?"

"Great," Andrew replied. "I got a lot of work done and I got a pay raise of one fifty bucks! My boss told me I could take the day off tomorrow! Where's Natalie?"

I run up the stairs silently, letting my mom and Caleb enjoy the reunion with Dad.

I peer down over the banister and see my mom kissing my dad, Caleb smushed in the middle of them. I want to laugh, but the sight of my father is sobering me.

My father is a lawyer. He's an incredibly good one, as he is slick with words and meanings. He is usually away from home, because his clients hire him from overseas and he has to go to court across the ocean to defend them and stuff. The reason we moved to Chicago, in fact, was because his hugest client required him to be at hand at all times, except when he was going away for other clients. I still don't know who the hugest client is, the one that we had to move practically across the country for.

But my father is the discipliner of the family. He will not hesitate to punish me for my behavior. Caleb never gets a punishment. He's the nice one. But I'm the spoiled brat, and so my father will reprimand and discipline me, with no effect.

And that is why I am scared of my father now. I have no idea how I will tell him that I am no longer a spoiled brat.

Because … _Who am I?_

"Where's Beatrice?" I hear my father saying strictly. "Is she outside without permission, or holed up in her room not listening to anyone? Natalie, has she been nice while I was gone?"

My mom sighs. "Andrew, honey, she's … she's in her room."

I run to my room, but I can still hear my father's booming voice.

"Answer my question, Natalie. Has she been good and nice?"

"Very," Natalie says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. "Tris has been beautifully wonderful."

"Her name is Beatrice," my father grunts. "Has she tricked you into calling her Tris?"

"No, it's just what she likes … and we're parents, so we're supposed to accommodate that."

"Natalie, my bride, have you _met_ our daughter? That is her whole philosophy. Don't let her stomp on you. You are brave, you are strong, and you are my _wife._ You are vigilant. Don't let Beatrice ruin your life. You're worth so much more than that. Don't let her crush you."

Tears begin to well up in my eyes. This is what my own father thinks of me. _Don't let Beatrice ruin your life. Don't let her crush you._

"No, Andrew, you don't understand," my mom says quickly. "Caleb, will you excuse us, please?"

"Sure," Caleb says, and runs up the stairs towards me.

"Shh," I whisper, and gesture down to my parents. Caleb's eyes light up in understanding and he nods. He joins me in eavesdropping.

"No, Andrew, Tris has changed, you have to believe me," Natalie pleads. "Don't punish her for anything. She is who she is. She is good."

"Natalie, it's okay. I'm here with you. Don't be afraid of Beatrice. I'll make sure she gets what she deserves."

"Stop it!" my mom shouts. I've never heard her shout before. It's kind of scary. "Just … just stop! Tris has changed! She's not spoiled anymore! _Use your damned sense!_ "

I choke on my laughter. Caleb covers my mouth forcibly.

"Shut up, sis," he hisses.

My dad's face is priceless. He just stands there and gapes.

"Look, I'm sorry," my mom backtracks hastily. "But Tris is OK now. There's nothing to worry about anymore. She's great."

"Mm-hmm," my dad says, not believing her at all.

"Just believe me – _Andrew_ " –

My dad yells, "Beatrice, I'm home!"

I glance at Caleb. He gives an encouraging nod, and I walk downstairs solemnly.

"Well, look who came down to greet me," he says sternly. "Beatrice, did you behave?"

I raise my hand up in front of my face in mock self-defense. "Whoa, there, Mr. Kindergarten Teacher. Just because I'm nice now doesn't mean I'm five years old."

My dad just stares.

I glance at my mom. She gives me an encouraging nod, just like Caleb did, and I hug my dad awkwardly.

"Welcome home … Father," I whisper. "I missed you."

"Beatrice?" he asks, confused.

"It's … Tris," I sigh, and wrap my arms around him tighter.

Slowly, he relaxes and hugs me back. "But … I don't get it."

"I was a bully," I say simply. "Now I'm not."

My father pulls away from me. "But … Beatr – I – I mean Tris – wh – why – how" – He gestures around helplessly. " _You?_ " He makes a "what" sign with his hands, palms up.

"Dad, look, I know it's a lot to take in, but you just gotta trust me," I say softly. "I've changed."

My dad breathes hard. "Wait – but – I don't get it," he stammers again. "So … you're not spoiled anymore? You're not rude, or obnoxious, or the most disobedient, uncaring daughter, or an embarrassment to be around" –

"Yeah, yeah, we got it at rude," I say. "You are _good_ at encouraging my ego."

My dad gives a dry laugh. "Beatrice – I mean Tris – that is the best news I've ever heard, then."

"Dad, look, I'm sorry," I say regretfully. "And … well, here. I wanted to give you this."

I hand him a newly finished card that I had made for myself. His mouth drops open in shock as he reads it out loud.

"Beatrice (Tris) Prior. Get to know me at my blog, the Tris Prior Blog – See you soon!" He glances up at me. "Bea – I mean Tris – what is this? You have a blog?"

"Yeah – I, um, had it for a, um, a pretty long, _long_ time, but I never really used it. I'm starting it up again and deleting my other social platforms – you know, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, the like."

My dad cracks a smile. "Well, whaddya know. Why'd you decide to do that?"

"I feel like if people really want to know me, they'll go to my blog. If they're interested enough in the person I am now, and not the person I once was, they'll look me up specifically, not just browse in the recommended topics of Twitter." I'm lying through my teeth. There's another big, big reason I'm changing to my blog, but I don't want anyone to know about it. Hence the "innocent" excuse.

My dad seems satisfied. "Well, all right then." He hugs me tightly. "I just want you to know … Tris … that I love you _so_ much."

I smile. "I love you too, Dad," and I hug him back.

Caleb and my mom join in the hug, and we laugh and cry a bit and talk about random family stuff, all huddled up.

As a family.

 **Awww, they're a family. Let me know what you folks think in the review box down below! I have a nice plot planned out for the next chapter. There's so much drama in everything!** -)

 **Be brave.**


	29. Chapter 29

**OMG you folks are like the most patient waiters ever. I am SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO sorry that it's been so long. The site was bugged or something and I couldn't publish my chapters. But I think this will work. Cliffhanger at the end, but I think you'll love the next few chapters!**

"OK, you have everything?" my mom asks for the zillionth time. "Make sure you bring a water bottle. Just in case the faucet at their house is broken. Change of shirt?"

"Mom!" I shriek, as she rummages through my backpack and pulls out a Carrie Kravitz emerald-green, thigh-length sleeveless dress.

"Beatrice Prior, this is mine!" she says, annoyed. "What's with the fanciness?"

"Mom, look, Christina's mom is the top clothes designer everywhere. Carrie Kravitz, Mom! And when I go to Christina's house, she's gonna be there! I can't be underdressed!"

"Yeah, well, in this, you are going to be underdressed! _From lack of sleeves and the bottom part of this dress!_ "

"It's thigh-length, that's how it's supposed to look!"

I get a text from Christina. _u want me to pick u up?_

I look at my mom, flinging my clothes everywhere and pretty much ruining everything. _ya. ill B ready in 15 mins._

 _dont dress fancy,_ she texts immediately. _the boys r taking us on a hike thru woods. jeans n plain shirt will do. mom's out on business and dad's on a work retreat, so the gang can hang out alone at my place_ _J_

My mouth drops open. _kk. C U soon._

"Never mind, Mom," I say, and quickly remove my tiny slip of a Carrie Kravitz pink jeweled dress that is currently attached to me. I replace it with tight black leather jeans, a black shirt, and a black punk jacket. "That's better." I slip a makeup case into my backpack.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" she asks, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, Chris just told me we're hiking through some woods, so casual it is," I respond, and wrap my phone charger cord around the big part that attaches to the outlet.

"Be safe, my little angel, OK?" she says, and I roll my eyes.

"One, Mom, I am _not_ your 'little angel.' Two, it's a freakin' sleepover at my best friend's house. Nothing bad is going to happen."

"Is your phone at a hundred percent?" Mom totally ignores me and somehow locates my toothbrush. "No, no, Tris, you need to get your electric toothbrush. You're probably going to be eating a lot of sugar and you'll need to clean your teeth very well. Wait a minute, are there going to be boys there? Are the boys responsible? They don't drink or smoke, do they? If they do, please tell me immediately. It's very dangerous, you know. You should _never_ drink or smoke."

" _Mom!_ " I say, totally pissed. "Cut it out!"

"I'm sorry, Tris, it's just that you've never been to a sleepover before!"

"Yeah, we all know how _Caleb,_ the nerdy-nerdy-nerd-nerd, has had more sleepovers than me," I retort.

"When you were spoiled, you just … thought sleepovers were for little kids," Mom says and fixes my high ponytail so it rises even higher on my head. "There. You look great."

I crack a small smile. "Thanks, Mom." I get that she's looking out for me. But sometimes … it's just a little too much.

"I'm here for you, always, Tris," she says, and kisses me on the forehead. "Now you go out there and have some fun, you hear me?"

My small smile turns into a grin. "You bet, Mom."

We hug briefly, then she hands me my backpack. I sling it over my shoulder casually. The dark blue color contrasts with my black leather clothes in a kind of pleasant way.

I pause at my bedroom door. "Mom … I'll get a ride home, OK? You don't have to pick me up."

"Sure, sweetie." She checks her phone. "Um, Tris, what's this? You sent me an invite an hour ago to a workout at somewhere called the … Dauntless Pit? With a 'physically trained master of strength, Lemon Runner?'"

"Oh, yeah. Christina signed me up for a workout class." I remember something she told me about the Dauntless Pit. "I think the Dauntless Pit is like a rec center or something. A mall. I don't know." I check my watch. "I gotta go, Mom. See you tomorrow. I love you."

"Love you too, sweetie!" she says brightly. "Now off with you, and be safe!"

"'K, love you!" I say again, and run out of my room and down the stairs.

Opening the door, I see Christina's red Ferrari idling in front of my house. Wow. She came quick.

"Tris!" Christina rolls down the window. "What's with the goth?"

"I don't know," I answer. "I'm in the mood for goth clothing right now."

"Black," she observes thoughtfully. "You might be Dauntless, sister."

I open the passenger's seat door and hop it. "Huh?"

"You never heard about the factions?" she asks in amazement, steering out of my driveway in typical Christina crazy-driving.

"No," I say, confused. "All I know is that the rec center is called the Dauntless Pit."

"It's not a rec center!" she exclaims, swerving so we don't hit the curb. My stomach lurches. "Seriously? Dude, the Dauntless Pit is where, hundreds of years ago, a faction called Dauntless congregated. Where the initiation dorm rooms used to be, that's where a bunch of restaurants are. Tori also works as a tattoo artist, where the Dauntless leaders used to live. The gym I signed you up for to work out, that's where the initiation training used to take place. Same punching bags, same targets, same everything. The Chicago government has tried so hard to preserve the old ways of life."

"I did _not_ read that on the Wikipedia page," I joke.

"City secret," she jokes back. "No, it's just that everyone's pretty much forgotten about the factions. It was such a long time ago."

"How did it end?" I ask curiously.

"Eventually the leaders realized that things weren't working out. Erudite, the intelligent faction, was trying to take stuff over, and Amity was holding back fresh produce because they felt they weren't appreciated enough **(bam, my first real separation from the Divergent series)** and were joked about. Candor kept insulting everyone. Dauntless used their weapons to threaten Abnegation, who in turn gave up everyone's food to the factionless, who kept stealing everyone's valuables for themselves. Eventually, the leaders came to a decision. They needed a new system. So, they made one."

"Wait, what about, like, the US government? Chicago follows that, duh."

"It's really complicated. I don't understand all of it, but I think Chicago kind of adopted the US government. Don't ask. It's really weird. And confusing."

"OK," I say. "But didn't …"

"No! Quiet! My brain is exploding!" Christina says in her usual, dramatic way. "Now, we're gonna drop our stuff off at my place. Zeke and Uriah will pick us up in their van"-

"Wait, back up a sec," I say in amazement. "The Pedrads have a _van?_ "

"Yeah. Their dad was really rich. Like filthy rich. Then he died. That's how the Pedrads have the gigantic house and car. Now, let me finish what I was saying. Zeke and Uriah will take you, me, Four, and Will. Four and Will don't have cars. Then Shauna will take Marlene and Lynn. We'll all fit comfortably."

"What about _your_ car?" I ask.

Christina shudders. "Uriah, Zeke, Four, and Will in _my_ beautiful Ferrari?" She strokes the uber-comfy seats lovingly. "Nuh-uh. Mom would be _so_ freaked if they ruined it. Nuh-uh."

She gets a text on her phone. It's from Carrie Kravitz, right on cue.

"Uh-oh," Christina says nervously. "Tris, this says … well, it's typical Mom, her emails are like four hundred words long, so I don't want to bore you, but, um …" She pauses nervously.

"What is it?" I ask. I can't stand the suspense.

She shakes her head. "I can't say it in the right words. Best you find out yourself." She hands me the phone solemnly, her words full of dread.

I grab the phone and read it to myself, scared to death. Did something happen? Why does Christina look so terrified? The text says:

 **Dun dun dun duh!** **What will it say? Don't worry, it's going to be a direct continuation next chapter.**

 **Please please please review! All those critical reviewers, don't worry. I haven't forgotten Tris signing up at the gym. I'm just trying to find** **the** **right place for it.**

 **Be brave.**


	30. Chapter 30

**Short one this time. I apologize, but I had to cut last one in half to make it fit. Please forgive me, and please review!**

 **Onwards with the story!**

 _Chrissie – Fab news. My assistant got sick. Can't do a thing w/out her. Coming home. I'll get drinks/food for your sleepover. – Mom_

"OK, one, this is _not_ four hundred words. Two, what's so bad about your mom getting food and drinks for the sleepover tonight?" I ask, confused again. I get confused a lot when I'm with Christina.

"Look at what you're wearing!" Christina looks devastated. "It's awful!"

"I can just get a change of clothes, Chris," I say easily. As long as Carrie Kravitz is coming home late, I can impress her with Christina's stunning outfits.

"She'll know the clothes are mine!" Christina groans and bonks her head on the steering wheel. "Oh, why didn't I tell you to get the best clothes you have? You are so un-this-week! Tris, you have to prove yourself to my mom. To my mom, 'proving' means having the right clothes. We gotta go back to your house."

"Relax, Christina. It's OK," I say, my eyes beginning to sparkle. "I have an idea."

…

"Tris! You almost done?" Christina shouts from outside the girls one-person bathroom at a gas station. Christina parked as soon as I told her I had an idea.

I check myself out in the mirror. Pink lip gloss, check. Perfect blue eye shadow, check. Noticeable eyeliner, check. Mascara, check. Breath mints enter my mouth in quick succession. I rub water on my teeth to whiten them. My hair falls from its ponytail and rises up again in a perfect bun like Christina made on truth or dare night.

Next, clothes. I shrug off my black leather jacket and rummage inside my backpack. Perfect!

I had forgotten to remove my fancy dress for tomorrow, the tiny green slip of a sleeveless, thigh-length dress my mother had found in the backpack. I sling my cross-body, gold-tasseled purse over my chest. I color my shoulders carefully with white blush, a thing I made up a few years ago, to make sure my shoulders don't look freckled and gross when I wear sleeveless dresses. I place my feet in delicate black heels, zip up my backpack again, and step outside.

"How do I look, Christina?" I ask, and twirl.

"OMG!" she squeals. "You're absolutely _stunning_."

I smile in delight. "So glad you like it."

"Why're your shoulders so white?" she asks curiously.

"Pale blush," I answer confidentially. "I came up with it a few years ago. Does it look good?"

"A bit," she says, studying them. "A little fake, though." She brushes it off slightly. "There, that's better."

"Can't argue with the fashion expert," I joke.

"Mom'll probably be at my house when we drop your stuff off," Christina says. "You'll make a fantastic impression on her. Mom loves well-dressed girls."

Suddenly I realize that I am going to be meeting _the_ Carrie Kravitz, the one who designs most clothes pretty much everywhere. She made so many lame things actual _things._ I still have my Carrie Kravitz short plaid skirt I bought four years ago when it became the fad and when I had to be the top – the spoiled brat.

"Great," I say nervously.

"Come on, we don't have a lot of time before the boys pick us up at the house!" Christina shrieks, and runs to her Ferrari. "Let's go!"

I run and open the door of the Ferrari passenger's seat, then jump right in.

Christina backs out in her usual, very Christina-like crazy driving, spinning the wheel expertly, almost killing us and then steering away. We are a centimeter away from slamming into the curb when she whizzes the agile Ferrari onto the actual road and hits the gas, sending us rocketing down the road at sixty miles per hour from a previous fifteen (because that's just how Christina backs out, at fifteen miles per hour).

We arrive at Christina's mansion in ten minutes.

It's literally a mansion.

The place is as big as three of my houses put together. The lawn is neatly, fashionably trimmed and three sweaty men are planting flower seeds and tending it. A big, bulky security guard-type stands at the huge pale blue door that is covered with big but delicate-looking pale golden locks. The mansion is gigantic, six stories high and a beautiful light blue color the same as the door. The window panes are white and beautiful, with pure white curtains, visible from the clear, sparkling glass, inside. The roof is flat and I can just see, if I crane my neck upwards, it is carpeted with a lovely waterproof white carpet. How I know it's waterproof, I have no idea. I'm guessing.

"Hey, Guard Chuck, how's it going?" Christina asks the dude guarding the door, and smiles gently at him. "Hot day, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am, Miss Kravitz," the guard, Chuck, answers with a straight face. "Of course. And who might your friend be?"

"Oh, this is Tris Prior. She's my bestie who moved from Maine recently," Christina says. "She's clear."

"Good," Chuck says, and pats me down really quick. "Your mother is waiting for you inside the house. Shall I ring her out here?"

"No, we'll just go see her," Christina says. She flips her hair confidently. "Chuck, here's a little something for your hard work." She reaches inside her purse and hands him a wad of cash and winks conspiratorially. "Between you and me, right?"

"Of course, Miss Kravitz," Chuck says, a small smile growing on his face as he pockets the cash. "I will tell your personal handmaiden to buy your special Queen of the Land's Lip League Lip Sheen immediately. And of course, it remains a secret. It wouldn't be very good for my and your handmaiden's career if Ms. Kravitz found out you were buying products that were not her own."

"Thanks so much!" Christina squeals. "I've been wanting the new version of QOTL's Lip League Lip Sheen for ages! You're the best, Chuck!"

"My pleasure," he says formally, unlocks all the bolts and locks with special passcodes, and opens the door.

We step in, onto a red carpeted floor.

"Wow," I breathe. "This is amazing."

A tall, slender girl rushes up to Christina, clothed in a Carrie Kravitz shimmery pink suit, which somehow looks really good on her. "Miss Kravitz, Allison at your service."

"Thanks, Allison," Christina says, beaming. "You're my handmaiden today, right?"

"Yes, yesterday it was Grace, so today it's me," she says.

"Fabulous. Go see Chuck, I think he has something to tell you."

Allison darts off, and I don't bother to conceal my amazement.

"So, you have guards, gardeners, and two _handmaidens?_ " I ask incredulously.

"Well, my mother _is_ Carrie Kravitz," Christina replies, and I look around the house in amazement. Stairs lead up and up, doors lead out of the magnificent hallway.

"Why, hello, girls," a pleasant voice says, as if on cue again, and Carrie Kravitz, the most famous clothes and makeup designer of all time, steps out from the shadows.

 **Whoo-hoo! Carrie finally makes an entrance! But y'all won't see much of her. She's not going to be in next chapter. Review if you want either Carrie's POV or Carrie to be a big character in the story. If you don't ... well, still review and tell me anyway.**

 **Again. Please review! You all support me so much!**

 **Be brave.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Check this one out. It's leading up to some good stuff!**

 **Please review**.

 **Onwards with the story!**

"See, Zeke wanted sangria, but Uri wanted beer, so they poured the beer into the sangria and mixed it around, and Will coughed all over Four and Lynn." Christina laughs crazily. "Their looks were murderous. Will crouched down, accidentally in my lap, and that's how we got together."

"Really?" I ask, interested, as Christina catches me up on the gang's early antics, before I was around. "How did that happen?"

"Well, Marlene laughed and said, 'You guys look good together.' I smacked her, but I accidentally spilled Will out of my lap. He landed on his back in front of my lips, and he looked so … so good, with his hair laid back and his eyes sparkling with mirth, that I … I just leaned down and kissed him …"

"OK, OK, I get it," I interrupt. "That's just weird." Uriah cackles from the front of the van, reaches back, and slaps Will on the back.

"How did Marlene and Uriah get together?" I interrupt. Uriah's face brightens.

"Finally! A story worth telling!" He beams. "So, basically, I was driving Marlene home from after-school detention – of course, we were in detention together for squirting lemons in Zeke's eyes in a food fight at lunch – and the car ran out of gas. We were only a few minutes away, but we didn't have our phones, so we decided to walk. Marlene tripped on a stick on the sidewalk. I, being the gentleman I am, helped her up, and she kissed me on the cheek, right here." He points to the spot, which seems irrelevant to me. "After that, Christina dared us to spend five minutes in a room together alone during truth or dare, and we kissed a bit. Then we promised we'd be boyfriend and girlfriend forever. Basically, happily ever after. Marlene's the best girlfriend ever."

Christina takes out her phone and texts Marlene. I can't see what she's writing, but I have a feeling it's something sweet.

"We're here," Uriah announces, stopping the car in an un-Christina-like way, carefully and gently.

After Carrie Kravitz appeared at Christina's house, all had been very quick. She'd looked at me kindly, said, "I love your dress, sweetie," and disappeared to tell the butler to buy food and drinks for the sleepover after we came home from the hike. Christina had Allison bring our stuff up to her room, and we had headed out.

Now Four, Zeke, Uriah, Will, Christina, and I are settled comfortably in the Pedrads' huge van, me taking the time to learn about previous events in the gang.

Four and Christina are seated to either side of me. Four's doodling once again, this time of a tall, slender, pretty girl. His shading is perfect and he captures the shine of her beautiful brown hair perfectly.

"Who're you drawing?" I ask curiously. Ever since David's place, things have been kind of awkward between us. Admittedly, his eyes are kind of cute and I want to get to know him more, but he refuses to talk to me.

Until now, that is.

"Just a beautiful girl I know," he answers softly. His voice is pleasant and deep. He colors the perfectly almond-shaped eyes a blue, then shades them in with green and brown. It's a flawless blend. Four has talent.

"Um … all right then," I say awkwardly.

"C'mon, people, everyone out," Uriah announces, and opens the driver's seat door.

We all get out of the car. Four brushes my hand slightly with his as he gets out. I look at him, like, "Really?" but he's talking to Zeke, head away from me.

"Four," I say sharply. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" he asks, facing me innocently.

"Stop …" I begin to say, then decide against it. "Never mind."

"OK," he says, and continues talking to Zeke.

We meet up with Shauna, Marlene, and Lynn. Christina giggles and whispers in Marlene's ear. Lynn's wearing her typical black leather pants and pink shirt, short blond hair gleaming in the light. Marlene and Shauna are dressed in brown hiking shorts and camo tank tops.

"Tris, the clothes?" Marlene asks, gesturing to my slip of a sleeveless, thigh-length Carrie Kravitz dress.

"Oh crap. Dammit dammit dammit. Crap crap crap." I survey my dress and perfect makeup and hair in dismay. "Christina, please say you have a solution."

"Did anyone bring a change of clothes?" Christina asks urgently.

 **OMG. Tris is in** ** _trouble!_**

 **Please review and tell me what you think.**

 **Be brave.**


	32. Chapter 32

**I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. It's been months since I updated. I've been thinking about everything, and just trying to make everything work. I realized I didn't like the plot of the last few chapters, so I deleted them and then created this one. It's pretty depressing - just warning you. Totally shocking and out of the blue.**

 **I don't even deserve to ask for reviews. So just read ... and enjoy ... and scream at me for how cruel I am.**

 **Hahahahahahaha.**

I wake up from a small sleep, leaning against the back of one of the van's seats. The others aren't back yet from their hike. It's kind of ridiculous that I go hiking in a tiny, sparkly slip of a dress, so I insisted they go alone. Christina point-blank refused, but I managed to convince her.

I pull out my phone and start to play a game. After a few minutes, I feel the sleepiness come over me once more, and I put my phone away and close my eyes.

A sharp rapping on the van's door startles me, and I shoot up.

Four's standing there. His face is totally solemn. I unlock the car door and let him in.

"What do you want?" I ask, mildly annoyed. "Are you guys back from the hike?"

He pauses. "I can't do this anymore, Tris." His head drops.

"Do what?" I ask, confused.

Now he pauses for a full thirty seconds. I get really impatient, wondering why the hell he's here. "Four, we haven't got all day."

He looks up. "Tris, I think I'm in love with you."

Nothing could have shocked me more. My eyes grow wider than I could have thought possible. I stand – well, as much as you can stand in a car – stock-still, just staring at him.

"Excuse me?" I must have misheard him. I _must_ have. Oh God, please let me have misheard him.

No such freakin' luck. "I think I'm in love with you," he says slowly. "I'm not quite sure when it happened. I just … it's so hard. I need to know whether you love me back."

I take an involuntary step back. " _Love?_ Four, I have, like, a tiny crush on you. It's nothing compared to real love. Love is something huge, something that connects two people in a crazy way. It's not simple. We're not even together."

He sags. "So you don't."

"Don't what?"

"Love me back."

My eyebrows wrinkle. "Four, we're in high school. It's not how it works, just coming up to a girl in a van and telling them you love them. That's just wrong. It's not right, and I don't … I just …"

"Tris, the first time you saw me, you were a pathetic spoiled brat. I have watched you change these past weeks, or months, just from the influence of being around the gang. I watched you at David's house. You were incredible. I've been trying to capture your likeness in a drawing. I draw you every single time I take out a pad of paper. Yeah, that's you. And honestly? I can't. I can't draw you. You're too beautiful to draw on a simple piece of paper."

I turn pale. "Oh God … Four … this is too much."

"No," he presses. "It's not too much."

"Four! Fifteen minutes ago we were snapping at each other, now you're telling me you love me! It's like a crappy Disney movie! I can't. I'm not ready to be in a real relationship right now."

"You said you had a crush on me, though."

"Yes, a high school crush. I don't love you, Four. I'm sorry. I'm not ready."

He nods curtly. "I should get back to the gang."

"Probably." I don't know what to say. Does this count as rejection? I feel the crush I had on him slowly begin to drain away. Suddenly he's just Four to me. Not Four with the beautiful, deep blue eyes, not Four with the hard, cold exterior but a soft, warm interior. No. Just Four.

"I'll see you when you guys are done, then," I say lamely.

He shakes his head. "I'm gonna walk home."

"What about Marcus?"

He shrugs. "I don't give a crap as to what he does to me. Congratulations, Beatrice Grace Prior. You just broke my heart."

With that, he jogs away from the van, and I'm left staring after him with a hole in my heart.

I'm not in the mood to be asked questions by that nosy Christina, so I text Mom and tell – not ask – her to pick me up. She says she's busy, but I use a few tricks to get her to come get me.

I stand straight, tall, and stiff. I can't believe what just happened. I know what I'm going to do.

It's too hard, being nice. It's just too hard and it's not worth it, especially when things like this happen. Maybe I will show Four how being with the gang didn't change me. I am still me.

When Mom picks me up, she wants to know what happened and why I have such a grumpy look on my face. I tell her to shove off, and then I slump in my seat. I don't care about anything. I am done. I might sound petulant, but you know what? I don't give a crap.

"Mom, we're moving."

Dad's face is a perfect poker face, just like Four's. He talks about how irresponsible this is, and how impossible it is, and how uncommitted I will seem when he tells the school. I tell him, "We've moved a hundred times since I was born. This doesn't and shouldn't matter."

He counters with, "We don't have a new house to stay in, Beatrice. We're just not doing it. End of discussion."

I stand up and get in his face threateningly. "No. We _are_ moving, and if we don't, I will give you hell for the rest of your life."

He shakes his head. "What happened, Beatrice? Something happened in the woods and now you don't want to stay here."

"It's none of your business, Dad. Get the plane tickets."

He pales. "Beatrice, don't go back to the way you used to be."

" ** _DON'T CALL ME BEATRICE!_** " I yell as loud as I can. " ** _YOU WILL GET THOSE TICKETS AND THEN WE WILL MOVE OR YOU WILL REGRET IT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE! DON'T SPEAK! GET OUT! GET OUT AND BUY THE TICKETS! NOW!_** "

He shrinks back, then runs from the room. My throat hurts so badly for screaming that loud and I curse as loud as I can.

What the hell is wrong with my life?

Against my will, I begin to cry. Mom comes in and tries to comfort me. As soon as she comes close enough, I deliver a hard enough punch to her gut to make her yell with pain. My phone buzzes a thousand times with texts from the gang, and I throw it across the room. It's wearing a protective case, and I'm disappointed it doesn't break.

After a few hours, Dad comes in. "The plane tickets are set," he says coldly. "We're going to move to your Great-Aunt Edith's. You really messed up this time, Beatrice Grace Prior. Are you going to tell your friends?"

I shake my head. "I don't give a crap as to them. When do we leave?"

"A month or so."

I stand up, rage boiling in me once more. "We leave tomorrow. End of discussion."

Then I stormed out of the room.


	33. Chapter 33

**I will probably be updating every other day from now on, with 1,000 word chapters in each. I hope you like this chapter and I'm wondering if the end counts as a cliffhanger!**

 **Please review!**

 **Christina POV**

"I can't believe Zeke dared you to tell Tris that you loved her. That was priceless."

Four laughs a little. "Yeah, she took it hard. Was I a good actor?"

"You should be on Broadway!" Uriah exclaims. We all chuckle a little.

"Hey, where is she?" I ask suddenly.

"Still at the van, I'm guessing, wondering what the hell just happened," Marlene chimes in. Once again, laughs can be heard all around the group.

I tilt my head dramatically. "Guys, something doesn't feel right."

"Yeah, I think Four's acting. It was too good. Are you sure that wasn't your clone?" Shauna asks, addressing Four.

"No, seriously." I stand up. "Oh crap. Let's get back to the van."

I run back as fast as I can. Sure enough, when I get there, there's no Tris. No dramatic movie-like note, either. Just an empty van.

"Well crap," Uriah says, surveying the scene grimly.

"You took it too far, you bonehead," Zeke growls, punching Four. "Where the hell did she go?"

"She has no one to take her, except for her family. Maybe Caleb picked her up."

"Probably," Marlene says nervously, but Will interrupts.

"No, he and my sister are hanging out today."

"Then Tris's mom or dad. I'll text her," I say, suddenly feeling very nervous. I pull out my phone and proceed to type the longest text I've ever written, no text shortcuts or anything.

 _Tris – We decided to play a stupid game of truth or dare and Four was dared by Zeke to tell you he loved you and not drop the act no matter how sad or angry you got. It was pathetic, honestly, and I really hope you didn't take it seriously. Judging by how you're gone, you probably did. I'm guessing your mom or dad picked you up and you're at your house. Please please please forgive us. You're my best friend. Please talk to me and don't ignore this text. See you soon. – Christina_

"That should do it," I announce, holding up my phone for everyone to see. They all nod, and I press send.

We wait for a few minutes. Nothing.

 _Tris – I'm guessing you're really mad at me, and I get that. I should have protested against the dare, knowing it was too much and that you didn't even know we were playing. I'm begging you to answer me. Please._

A few more minutes. Still nothing. I begin texting her every second, asking "where are you?" and "are you ok?" The whole gang takes out their phones and text her as well. We even try calling, but each time it goes to voicemail.

"Guys," I say, turning to them. "It's hopeless."

 **Tris POV**

"Welcome welcome welcome!" Great-aunt Edith brings my mom in for a hug, then my dad, then Caleb. She looks at me uncertainly, holding her arms out for one.

I smile rudely. "Sorry. Hugs are overrated."

Her face falls, and she turns to Mom. "Still the same, then, Natalie?"

"I'll tell you later, Edith."

She nods and looks at me. "Let me tell you something, honey, when you're at my place, no rudeness tolerated. You do what the adults tell you to do, otherwise there will be consequences."

"Like what?" I sneer.

"I'm sure you love your electronics. I'm also sure that you would hate it if they were thrown in the garbage can."

I narrow my eyes. "You wouldn't."

She matches my glare with one of her own. "Watch me, Beatrice. I don't like your attitude and I intend to put a stop to it."

"What are we, five?"

She holds out a flat palm. "Phone, please."

"Edith," Mom says warningly, and reluctantly, she retracts her hand.

"That was your first warning," she tells me, and then turns to the rest of my family. "Oh dear, Andrew, look at that massive bag! Let me help you with that."

With surprising strength, she lifts the humongous bag from Dad and places it on the front porch.

"Now, I have a few rules here. One. No rudeness tolerated." She looks at me specifically, and I fix her with my best glare. "Two. I only have one spare room. One of you kids can sleep on a couch, the other an air mattress, and you, Andrew and Natalie, can sleep on a real bed. Personally, I vote for Caleb to take the air mattress."

I'm beginning to really hate Great-aunt Edith.

"Three. I have a custom at my house that we eat out once a week. The rest of the nights … well, you're just going to have to find out." She smiles. "Beatrice, I would like to speak with you in private, please. The rest of you, go unpack and relax. I'm so happy to have you here."

Like I'm going to go with her. Dad shakes a head at me warningly, and I raise my eyebrows and smile. "If you'll excuse me, I have to _get away from you,_ " I tell everyone.

"Hey Beatrice!" Edith calls as I begin to walk away. I turn and somehow, she's holding _my phone_ in her hand.

I gape. "How the hell did you get that?"

"You're so unguarded, it was a piece of cake to slip into your pocket and take it. Let's go."

Reluctantly, I follow her into the house, up a flight of stairs, and a few doors to the right. I go in uncertainly.

It's her office. There's a desk, a lamp, a bookshelf, whatever.

"Sit down." Edith gestures to a straight-backed brown chair.

I do.

She sits on a plush, rolling chair and steeples her fingers. "We have a lot to discuss, Beatrice."

"Like what?"

"Something happened," she says, looking at me closely. "Something that changed you. And then … another thing happened, this time bad. You became a spoiled brat again."

"Excuse me?"

"It was Chicago," she muses. "You met people there. They were unlike anyone you'd ever known. You became a better person."

"How do you know this?"

"It's in your eyes." She sits up straight. "What happened with them, Beatrice?"

"None of your concern," I sneer.

"Tell me now, or the phone goes in the dumpster," she says, dangling my precious phone.

"One of the boys said he loved me. I'm not ready for that." It sounds stupid when I say it like that, but what's done is done.

"But you liked him."

"Lady! Are you a fortune teller? How are you figuring this out?"

She paused, then stood up. "Let me show you something, Beatrice."

"Can you call me Tris?"

"Yes. Come on."

I follow her down the stairs again and into her backyard. It's pretty huge, just a giant square of grass with fencing around the outside and a small house in the middle.

She begins heading to the house. It's bright red with a white door, just like one of those old classic barns on farms.

She slides open the door, and what I see inside brings a huge smile to my face.

 **What do you think it is? Leave a review to predict.**


	34. Chapter 34

**Hey, we've got Chapter 34 now. I have a lot of time to write these next couple days, so I might be popping out a few chapters at once because I'll write them without WiFi and then get the WiFi after, etc. Anywhoo, please review! I know I'm not giving you a lot of time between each chapter, but it really means a lot to me. Please enjoy!**

It's a horse. He's beautiful, a solid black with a white mane and tail, and quite a big body. He's groomed perfectly, with not a speck of dust on him, gleaming amazingly.

"Oh stars above, lava below, and hard earth in between," I murmur, quoting something Susan always used to say.

"This beauty is named Fleet." Edith crossed the short distance from me to the horse and began petting him affectionately.

"Is Fleet your own?"

"Oh, no," she laughs. "But since I have so much land, I house him and take care of him for my neighbor, and in return I get to ride him whenever I want."

"He's beautiful," I whisper, in awe of the majestic creature.

"I want to teach you how to ride," she tells me. "Riding a horse takes some serious responsibility, and you need that right now. You can't think about only what you want when you're riding. You have to think about what's best for the horse too. And if you don't do that, there will be serious natural consequences."

"Are you serious?" I'm not referring to the consequences part, I'm referring to her teaching me how to ride. I love animals. I've loved them since I was little. I can't imagine riding Fleet, as huge and stunning as he is.

Edith seems to understand, and she nods. "Very serious, B – I mean Tris. I believe in you. You can do this."

I make a split second decision. "I want to start learning today."

She smiles. "All right then. Would your brother like to learn too, do you think?"

"He's more of a book person," I say, still admiring Fleet. "I think I'll do it by myself."

"OK. Now, first thing, you need good riding clothes. I'll lend you some of my old boots and adjust an old helmet. Just wear pretty tight-fitting pants and whatever shirt feels comfortable. Chaps aren't necessary at this stage."

I don't bother to ask what chaps are, just nod excitedly. I briefly think about what Christina would say if she knew I was learning how to ride a horse, then silently curse myself for thinking about her.

 _I'm done with them,_ I tell myself firmly. _This is my new life._

Thirty minutes later and Edith is showing me how to tack Fleet. First she puts the saddle pad on, then the saddle. She briefly shows me how to adjust the girth, which I try and ultimately fail at, then how to measure how long the stirrups should be – you put your fingers at the top of them, then try and have the end of the stirrup reach your armpit. She puts the bridle on for me, slipping the silver bit into Fleet's mouth, then pulling the noseband on, then tuck his ears under the whatever-it's-called **(I actually forget what it's called, and I'm too lazy to just go on the Internet and check, so sorry about those readers who** ** _love_** **terminology)**. After Edith shows me how to lead Fleet out of the barn by holding the reins correctly, she tells me to swing them over Fleet's head. I knock him in the freakin' face. He _neighs,_ upset, and I jump back, letting go of them. He starts trotting away, and Edith jogs after him, grabs the reins, and leads him back to me.

I'm about to apologize, but realize that I don't have to. I shouldn't have to apologize for anything. She sees my hesitation and frowns.

"Lesson number one, Tris. _Never let go of the reins._ Fleet could bolt or, worse, he could step on them, which is really bad for the reins and his hooves. Try it one more time, and if you make a mistake, keep a firm hold on them. Got it?"

I shrug. When she folds her arms sternly, I mutter, "Got it."

I swing the reins over his head again, and this time they fly over his ears and land on the back of his neck. Edith claps and I roll my eyes.

"I'm not five, Edith," I snap at her, and she marches up to me.

"You're acting like you are, Tris, and I don't let five year-olds ride Fleet. In fact, you're the first person other than me and his real owner to ride him. It takes true responsibility, which clearly you're lacking. Maybe you should go back to the house. Here." She tosses me my phone. "Go do whatever you do on that. I don't need to bribe you with it." I look at her reluctantly. I _really_ want to learn how to ride Fleet. Of course, I would never beg – I'm not _that_ low – but I really want her to say "Never mind. Come on, let me show you how to mount."

She shakes her head. "I think it was a bad idea to let you ride the first day you got here. Go unpack and settle in. Until you learn a little more responsibility, you're not going to be able to ride."

I grow angry at her but I try to control myself, turning around and jogging back to the house with fury boiling in my stomach.

 _Idiot,_ I snap at myself. _You had to say that stupid sentence. Great freakin' job, Tris._

I'm about to turn on my phone, but I realize then I'll have to see Christina's texts, so I shove it in my pocket.

I go to the kitchen, planning on making myself a snack. Dad's hunched over a computer.

"What're you doing, Dad?" I ask.

"Paying tuition for your new school," he responds curtly. He's pretty pissed that I made the family move from Chicago. I smile smugly and grab a bag of chips.

I'm about to leave when he asks, "Why're you done with riding so early?"

I promptly ignore him, leaving and finding my computer, which I open and begin to browse my social media. As soon as I see that Christina has practically shouted on each of my platforms, I exit them and open Netflix. I watch a few episodes of my favorite shows. After an hour or so, the computer runs out of battery, and I can't find the freakin' charger. I curse again and try to find a TV.

There's one in the living room, but I can't find the remote.

 _Everything is against me today,_ I think miserably.

"Hey Mom, Dad!" I shout. "I'm taking a walk!"

No response, so I don't bother to call again, just unlock the front door.

It's a pretty rural area, so there's a lot of lawn everywhere, but not next door. There's a guy lounging on a wooden chair reading a book there. I'm guessing that person's the one who owns Fleet. Yeah, there's _definitely_ not enough grass for a horse over there.

I go down the front steps, and when I'm at the end of the driveway, I turn around just to see the house again, and I see Edith mounted on Fleet past the house. He's cantering and she looks amazing, like twenty years younger. She has a gigantic smile on her face as her hair flies back behind her.

I look at them for a second, then abruptly turn around and continue walking.

 **Whoa, horses. Love 'em.**

 **Leave a review just for kicks, huh? Love hearing 'em!**

 **Be brave.**


	35. Chapter 35

**Literally two seconds after the previous chapter.**

 **Anyway, there's a lot of horse terminology in this chapter because Tris will be learning to ride. If you're really confused about something, just ask in a review or a PM and I'll do my best to answer you within 24 hours. Please review!**

 **Onwards with Chapter 35!**

 **Christina POV**

"Mom, I _need_ you to do this for me," I beg. "It's _so_ important."

She shakes her head. "Absolutely not. My career is more important than a silly fight between teenagers."

"It's just one shout-out on all your social media platforms!" My voice sounds a little whiny and I try my best to fix it. "Just explaining that it was all a joke and that we're begging her to come home. Please, Mom."

"Christina, you know I can't do that. My social media is strictly reserved for new clothes, accessories, and makeup. Speaking of which," she pauses and looks at me sternly, "have you been buying Queen of the Land's makeup? I found a crumpled receipt in the trash can."

I pale, then decide to edit the true story a bit. "I accidentally ordered the wrong thing on Amazon and I didn't want to tell you because I thought you'd think that I'd done it on purpose, which I really didn't, and then you'd get mad at me. I was going to tell you, honestly. Please don't be mad."

She looks at me for a long time. I feel like squirming under her gaze, but resist.

Finally, she shrugs. "All right, I get it. It's OK, Christina."

I breathe a sigh of relief and make a mental note to hide all QOTL stuff ASAP. "Anyhoo, you changed the subject. It means so much to me, Mom. If I've ever done anything right, please do it."

She's silent, then finally she shakes her head. "I'm really sorry, Christina. I'm a professional woman. I can't use my advertisements to get in the middle of a teenager fight. Believe me, she'll get over it."

"Mom, you don't know Tris. She won't get over it."

She begins to walk past me, and brushes my hair back behind my ear. "If she doesn't get over a silly mistake, Christina, then she's not worth it."

I stand stock-still as she leaves the room in all her typical grace and beauty and whatnot. I can't believe what Mom just said to me. Tris _is_ worth it. She's so smart and brave and selfless **(hahaha, get it?)** – when she's in a good mood.

But that's what a best friend is for, right? Good moods, bad moods, it's all about balance.

I push down my growing doubt ferociously, pulling out my phone and texting Will, Uriah, Zeke, Marlene, Shauna, Four, and Lynn.

 **Christina:** _my mom said no._

 **Uriah:** _damn. that sucks._

 **Christina:** _what do we do now?_

 **Zeke:** _keep texting her eventually she'll have to look at her phone then she'll realize it was all a big joke_

 **Marlene:** _Zeke, you can't even write with punctuation. it's so hard to read._

 **Zeke:** _deal with it sistah_

 **Christina:** _guys that is so off-topic._

 **Shauna:** _i still can't believe she took this so seriously. Like she seriously MOVED because of this. don't u guys think she's overreacting a little bit?_

 **Christina:** _four was kinda harsh on her, but remember she's still recovering from her life of spoiledness. it can't be too easy on her_

 **Will:** _I agree, beautiful._

 **Christina:** _*blushes*_

 **Zeke:** _right here you virtual PDA'ers_

 **Will:** _don't ruin it you pansycake_

 **Christina:** _zeke, shut up. Will, close your handsome mouth. thx._

 **Lynn:** _could you shut up if you're not talking about something necessary? Trying to sleep here._

 **Uriah:** _finally, Snapping Snow White enters_

 **Lynn:** _watch it idiot_

 **Uriah:** _u hv any ideas to get tris back, lynn?_

 **Lynn:** _if she's taking it this seriously, it's her fault, not ours. Let's just get on with our lives. We can't mope around forever._

 **Christina:** _she was my best friend, lynn._

 **Lynn:** _three cheers for your best friend. IT DOESN'T MATTER, CHRISTINA. SHE DID WHAT SHE CHOSE TO DO, NOW IT'S OUR TURN TO TAKE CONTROL._

 **Zeke:** _*cheers three times*_

 **Lynn:** _you should probably inspect your food the next time you eat, Zeke. It might have a little accidental poison in it_

I roll my eyes and turn off my phone. Clearly this group chat is not helpful and I don't want to waste my time.

I put my head down on the table and sigh.

 **Tris POV**

"Are you ready to ride again, Tris?" Great-aunt Edith asks sternly, folding her arms.

I nod decisively. "I'm ready."

She smiles. "Let's see what you remember."

I have a little trouble with the girth – the bottom buckles are still pretty hard to lift – but after a bit I manage to get both up to the fourth holes, then adjust the stirrups, which I'm pretty good at.

"This is English riding, right?" I ask.

She nods. "I find Western a little more difficult and Fleet was trained to ride English."

"How do I mount?"

She instructs me as to how to get on the horse – put my left foot in the stirrup, push myself up while grabbing the ends of the saddle, swing my right leg over the saddle, then sit down – and demonstrates briefly before dismounting swiftly. I try to mimic her and, obviously, fall on my back on the first try, but I remember at the last second to not let go of the reins.

"Nice job, Tris. Try again." Edith is holding Fleet's bridle, probably making sure he doesn't shift too much. "This time, put more of your foot into the stirrup and pretend you're walking up a really a high step. Put all your weight into it and heave yourself up."

I try and fall once more. After two more tries, I finally lift myself up and barely swing my right leg over the saddle.

" _Good,_ Tris!" she exclaims. I pump my fist in the air and almost fall, righting myself by grabbing Fleet's mane.

"Careful. Don't get overconfident," she warns. "Now, place your right foot in the other stirrup."

Fleet shifts a little, and I squeak a little as I feel like I'm going to fall. But he rights himself, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"OK, Tris, take the reins like this." She reaches up and adjusts my hands. "Now, you should have a straight line from the beginning of the reins to where you're holding them. No slack, but don't pull unnecessarily on them. Got it?"

"Got it," I say, feeling very precarious on Fleet.

"Now squeeze him very gently with your legs. He's very responsive, so if you kick him, he'll break into a trot, and maybe even a canter. So be careful."

I nod nervously and squeeze him with my legs. There's a slight pause, then he begins walking. I hold the reins tightly, terrified.

"Loosen up," Edith commands. "You can't be tense on a horse."

I do my best to loosen the reins, stopping myself for snapping at her. He sways a little as he walks.

"Now, when you approach the fence, I'm going to want you to pull gently on the left rein to turn Fleet to the left. Key word: gentle. Got it?"

"Uh huh," I say. Soon we've approached the end of the fence, and I gently pull with the left rein. He turns to the left, and I break out into a smile. He's _so_ responsive.

"Now, we're going to go a little faster. This is called alternate kicking. You can probably feel Fleet's stomach moving, right?"

"Yeah," I respond.

"Great. So, what I want you to do is when he sways to the left, kick to the left with your right leg, and when he sways to the right, kick to the right with your left leg. Again, gently."

I do as she says, and Fleet speeds up a little to a fast walk, but not a trot. I stay this way for a few minutes, with Edith calling out ways to improve my posture or my kicking or whatever. I do my best to listen to whatever she says, even though I don't want to.

"So, it looks like you're great at that, so now I'm going to teach you how to post. You have to post when you trot, otherwise you bounce all around and it hurts Fleet. Now, pull back gently on the reins to stop him."

I do, and immediately he stops.

"OK, this is how you post. Push your heels down to the point where they hurt. Use that momentum to lift yourself from the saddle and stand up, then sit back down again. Do that over and over. Up, down, up, down."

I try to do what she says, and she keeps correcting me.

"Push your heels down a little more and put your shoulders back – you're a little slumped. That looks good. Lift yourself fully from the saddle, don't be lazy. Come on. More, more!"

"I'm _trying!_ " I explode. "Just stop!"

As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I regret it, because I know Edith is going to send me back to the house.

But to my surprise, she moves to stand in front of Fleet and pets him slowly in long, sweeping strokes. "Fleet doesn't like shouting," she tells me quietly, in a very disappointed tone. "Keep your voice _down_ or you will be forced to leave."

I nod quietly, still feeling angry but knowing to contain it.

"Good," she says softly. "Now let me show you how to dismount. Tomorrow, I'll teach you how to trot."

"The lesson's over?" I ask disappointedly.

She smiles. "Fleet isn't a machine, Tris. He looks a little tired. Come on. Free both your feet from the saddle and swing your right leg over."

She continues to instruct me as to how to dismount safely, and as soon as I do, she shows me how to loosen the girth and tie up the stirrups, then she swings the reins over and then under his head, and gives them to me. "Here, walk him back to his stall. I'll take his saddle and saddle pad off."

I walk him slowly back to the barn, thinking back on the riding experience. It was _incredible_. I vow to keep on riding for the rest of the time my family and I stay with Edith.

 _My phone has to be plugged in eventually,_ I think to myself at 9 pm. I look at it lying on a table and feel a strange urge to go over and grab it and look at the texts Christina sent me.

 _Oh to hell with it,_ I tell myself, and cross the room to the table. Picking up the phone, I scroll to the very bottom, and my mouth drops open as I read the texts.

 **Whoa, Tris is nasty. But do you think she's improving? Leave your predictions in the reviews! I'm going to be setting up a system where if you leave a review, I'll reply to it by PM. If you don't want the extra notifications, just let me know and I'll make sure to exclude you from the reply list. If you're a guest, I will respond to you in the A/N before the chapter begins. If you have an account, please try your absolute best to log in before you leave a review - it's so much easier that way. Thanks!**

 **Be brave.**


	36. Chapter 36

**OK, here's another chapter. Please review again. Thanks.**

"You have a hella lot of explaining to do," I snap at Christina as soon as she answers my FaceTime.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Tris. I should have stuck up for you."

"It's too late, Christina. We're done."

Her face falls. "Please, Tris, it was a stupid mistake. Forgive the gang. In fact, if you're going to be mad at anyone, you should be mad at Zeke. He suggested it."

"I was a part of the gang, Christina. You had no right to create a dare that involved me when I didn't know you guys were playing. You knew I had a crush on Four. It's just too much."

"Why are you talking in past tense?" Christina asks, sounding confused. I roll my eyes.

"Clearly you don't get it. I'm done with you guys. I've moved away, started a new school, and already adjusted to life at my great-aunt's." For some reason, I don't bother to tell her about Fleet. It seems like my little secret.

She looks horrified. "No, Tris! You're overreacting. Please, just come back. Think it over one more time."

"Christina. I'm _done._ "

"What about Roth High? What about … about everything you've created here that you've loved?"

"It's all gone," I say without remorse. "I've reconnected with Susan Black, and since we're in Maine right now, we're going to do weekend sleepovers and stuff. It's going to be so much fun."

"Tris, do you want a best friend's opinion?" This is clearly a rhetorical question, but I don't care.

"Sure. I'll go ask Susan her opinion," I respond curtly, inwardly smiling, as her eyes bulge. That was perfect.

"Tris – _I'm_ your best friend."

"No. You _were_ my best friend. Goodbye, Christina." With that, I shut the computer.

I pull out my phone and text Susan.

 **Tris:** _hey, we meeting up this weekend?_

 **Susan:** _totes. rob's driving me._

 **Tris:** _fab._

 **Susan:** _i'm also bringing a hottie w/ me if that's ok. he's interning somewhere around here and im giving him a ride. if ur interested in potential relationships, i have a feeling ull like him._

I feel a thirst for rebellion.

 **Tris:** _bring it on, sistah._

 **Susan:** _i 3 u bestie_

I grin.

 **Tris:** _c u soon._

 **Susan:** _c u._

"Tris! Come on down! It's time for your lesson with Fleet!" Edith calls. I do a little happy dance and then rush downstairs.

Things are looking up for my life.

"Tris, this is Logan Gordon. Logan, Tris." Susan introduces us to each other by gesturing with her hands, which I find adorable.

Man oh man, Logan is the _package._ He has medium-length, wavy brown hair and emerald-green eyes. Muscles bulge from his tight shirt and his jeans and sneakers are particularly attractive for some reason. He also has an adorable right dimple against his tanned skin, which is just perfect.

He holds out a firm, callused hand and I shake it. He smiles and I smile back.

"Welcome, Susan and Robert," my mom says, ushering them inside. She does a double take when she sees Logan. "Well, hello. And who is this?"

I smile slightly. "Mom, this is Logan Gordon. He's interning around here and Susan agreed to give him a lift."

Her eyebrows raise slightly and I turn and make sure my eyes murder her. She shrinks back a little bit instinctively.

"Well, come on in, Susan and Robert. Logan, do you want to come in too?"

He smiles at her. "No thank you, Ms. Prior, I'll just wait outside."

I want to impress him somehow, and suddenly I know how. "Hey Mom, where's Edith? I noticed Fleet was a little dirty from yesterday and I think she missed a spot when she was grooming."

Silently, I tell her to go along with it, and finally she nods. "Oh, I think she went out to the store. Go ahead and hang out with Fleet. I'm sure he'd love the company."

I smile. "Perfect." I turn to Logan. "Hey, Logan, do you want to come with me? We're going to see Fleet, my great-aunt's boarded horse. I take care of him mostly. Do you like horses?"

He shrugs. "Haven't had much experience with them, but I'd love to see this one particularly."

I grin this time, not a smile. "Amazing. Follow me."

As I pass, Susan wiggles her eyebrows at me, and I stifle a giggle.

Yes. This is how life _should_ be.

 **Christina POV**

"Guys. It totally backfired. Tris is really done with us." I hate telling them this, but it's necessary. I've called them all in – except for Lynn – to talk about the situation. "She reconnected with Susan Black, started a new school, everything. I just don't get how she can move on so quickly."

"She's been doing it her whole life, guys, and I'm betting Chicago was one of the places she stayed at for the least amount of time." Shauna sighs slowly.

"But she seemed so close to Susan! Why not us?" Marlene has been crying for quite some time now. She's almost been a more emotional type, and she was pretty close with Tris – but I was closer.

"I think she stayed in Maine with Susan since seventh grade. She's known her for a much longer time than we have," I comment.

"It just seems so …wrong, though," she whispers. "I thought … for some reason … that she would want to stay with us."

"Guess we were wrong, then," Uriah says bitterly. I walk over to him and sling an arm around his shoulder.

Looking around at all of my friends, I brace myself and try to smile. "Guys. Come on. Let's not let one girl ruin our friendship. Let's play truth or dare tonight. My place. It's been a while since we've had beer. I'll get my mom to buy the food and drinks. We'll party to no end. Huh? You guys in?"

"I'm pretty tired," Marlene mumbles. "I think I'll pass."

"If Marlene's out, then I'm out," Uriah says, which is so unlike him I almost take a step back.

"I'm with Marlene, whatever she does," Shauna adds. They seem to have developed a very close friendship.

"Shauna and Uri are out? Then I'm out," Zeke tells us.

Will looks at me reluctantly. "It's not much of a party without Zeke, Uri, Marlene, and Shauna. I'm sorry, babe."

I shrug, more disappointed than I let on. "Whatever. Have fun tonight, guys. Don't mope. Be happy."

"Right," Marlene mumbles again. "I don't feel so well, guys."

"I'll take you home, babe," Uri offers, and scoops her up, bridal style. She wraps her arms around his neck and he carries her out of my room.

Shauna stands up. "Well, I'll see you around, guys," she says sadly. "Text me."

"Will do," I respond. Zeke nods.

She leaves, and then Uri comes rushing back in with Marlene still in his arms.

"Uh … Zeke? I need the car keys," he says, and I want to laugh at his stupidity, but I can't, because everyone is so sad.

Without a word, Zeke tosses him the keys and he catches them, then walks out of the room.

Then Zeke rushes to the door. "Damn it. I gotta go. If Uri leaves, my ride is gone. I'll see you then, Christina."

"See you, Zeke."

He runs out, and just Will and I are left.

He sighs. "I have news, Christina."

"Good or bad?" I'm not sure if I can take any more bad news right now.

"Cara and Caleb …" he trails off.

My eyes widen. "Did they break up?"

He shakes his head. "The opposite. Cara wants to move to Maine to be with him, and … it's possible I might go with her. Then, of course …"

"You'd see Tris almost every day. You guys would be like siblings," I finish, and bitterness rises up in me. "Oh hell no."

"Look, Christina, Maine is a really great state, and I want some change. Cara's eighteen, and my parents have given permission for me to move."

" _I_ can't move to Maine, Will! My mom is Carrie Kravitz! We can't just go to another house!" I see the truth in his face and stop immediately. "Hell. You weren't even thinking about me joining you. You want to go _alone._ "

"Look, Tris has never had much of a problem with me. She already had a fight with you, and she definitely doesn't want to be near Zeke or Four. Uri is too happy and too close with Zeke. Marlene and Shauna are just like you – I have a feeling she doesn't want to be with them right now. But honestly? I think I'm the best person to go and see her in person … and possibly live there."

I put my foot down. "Absolutely not, Will. You do this … we're done."

The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them, and immediately I want to take them back. I open my mouth to apologize, but he interrupts.

"We've been dating for _two and a half_ years, Christina." His voice is very, very cold. "It's this easy to let go." He states it as a fact, not a question. "This easy … to let all we've been through crumble to dust like _that_." He snaps his fingers, and I flinch. "I've made up my mind. I wish we didn't have to break up. Do that long-distance relationship thing." He shakes his head. "Clearly, though, it means nothing to you."

"Please," I plead. "I didn't mean it. I'm just desperate and … and so sad. Please don't go live in Maine. I wouldn't be able to stand it."

"I'm sorry, Christina." He gives a small smile. "I'll FaceTime you from Maine, alright?"

I watch helplessly as my first love walks out of my sight. Forever.

 **Man, that's some sad stuff. Sorry about that, people. But this is real. This is** ** _real._**

 **Please review.**

 **Be brave.**


	37. Chapter 37

**Please enjoy and review!**

 **Tris POV**

I'm chatting with Susan about Logan's hotness when someone knocks sharply on the bedroom door that my family all shares.

"Come in!" I call, and Caleb enters.

His hands are folded behind his back and he's bouncing on his toes. He seems really nervous about something.

"Hi," Susan welcomes. He smiles.

"Hi, Susan. Was the ride here OK?"

"Perfect, thanks," she says awkwardly.

Caleb gives me the "I need to talk to you _privately_ " glare, which I promptly ignore.

"So, you wanted something?" I ask pointedly.

He looks at Susan meaningfully and then me. I smile, pretending not to get it.

"Come on, we don't have all day," I tell him, and I feel a little pang. Those were the words I said to Four before he said he loved me.

"All right," he says slowly. "But you're not going to like this."

"Hell, just get on with it," I groan.

"Um, so Cara's moving to Maine to be with me," he says slowly. "And Will's coming with her."

I shoot up off the bed and get in his face. "And you thought that would be _OK_ with me?" I snarl.

"It wasn't my choice! Either Cara comes and brings Will, or she doesn't and we have to break up! Will and Christina already broke up!"

I scoff, trying not to care. "Then break up, Caleb! Will is _not_ coming here!"

He looks even more guilty. "Uh …"

Then a pretty figure comes to stand side by side with Caleb.

It's Cara.

"Oh, you didn't," I whisper.

"Hello, Beatrice," Cara says, and enters without permission. "Lovely room."

Then Will comes in.

His hair's cut and there's a single loose curl framing his face. His inquisitive brown eyes scan the room, taking everything in. His jaw is shaped. He wears black pants, a brown T-shirt, and a navy blue button vest.

Oh God. He looks … _handsome._

I want to get up in everyone's faces and scream at them. I want them to cower and do whatever I say, like usual. I want to punch Caleb in the face for inviting them without telling me.

Instead, I manage to squeak out, "Hey, Will."

He looks equally uncomfortable and nods casually. "'Sup."

"So, it's go-out-to-dinner night," Caleb announces, breaking the awkwardness. "Since Susan, Robert, Cara, and Will are here, they get to decide where we're going. We've got Italian, Chinese-Japanese, Indian, or Mexican. Pretty wide array of choices."

"I love Italian," Cara says gently. Of course she does. She's just the kind of person who would like it.

"I'm good with that," Susan announces. She's googly-eyeing Will, and I want to smack her. What is her problem?

"Me too," Robert says, his tall figure towering over everyone like usual, pretty intimidating.

"Sounds great," Will says.

"Italian it is then," Caleb finalizes. I groan inwardly. I _hate_ Italian.

"We're not doing Italian," I announce to everyone. "We're going for Chinese-Japanese. End of story."

"Tris, we already decided," Caleb tells me, staring at me with a "don't make a scene in front of my girlfriend" look.

I scowl. "Don't give a damn, Cal. Make reservations. I'll see y'all later, I'm going to see Fleet."

"Fleet?" Will asks curiously.

"My great-aunt's boarded horse. I ride him. Susan, wanna come?"

"I think I'll stay, thanks," she tells me, still staring at Will.

"Susan. _Come on._ "

She finally breaks away. "Fine, Tris."

I jog to the back door, and Susan hurries to keep up with me. As soon as we're at Fleet's barn, I round on her accusingly.

"What the hell?"

"What?" She sounds incredibly defensive.

"You were checking out _Will!_ You can't do that! He's _off-limits._ "

"How come?" She puts her hands on her hips. "You seeing him secretly or something?"

I sputter. "N-no, it's just …"

"Oh I see. You have a crush on him." She shrugs. "Oh well. It's a shame."

"Oh, so you won't try to get together with him? Thank you so much!"

She nods. "We're best friends. You're going through a tough time right now, and it's my job to support you."

I grin. "I'm so glad you're here, Su."

She grins back. "Ditto, Tris."

We hug briefly. Suddenly I straighten.

"Hey, do you want to ride Fleet?"

 **Will POV (this is in the car before he and Cara go into Edith's house)**

Cara is telling me to behave, to not embarrass her in front of Caleb. I roll my eyes. Of course I won't.

I'm just excited to see Tris. My heart still hurts from Christina and my breakup, but it was for the best. Long-distance relationships just don't work with me. It was better it ended now than later.

I've promised to text the gang as soon as I see how Tris is doing. I really hope she's not mad at me for coming up here.

"Will, come on. Grab your suitcase," Cara tells me, and I get out of the taxi's backseat. Cara called shotgun, which sucks, but I'm used to it.

I grab my navy blue suitcase with the gold zippering that used to be my mom's. It's pretty feminine but I just have to deal with it because there's nothing I can do about it. I follow Cara up the steps to an average-sized house with a massive yard. She knocks using a brass knocker shaped like a horse.

Caleb opens almost immediately. He seems kind of shy to see Cara. He smooths his hair back and clears his throat nervously. "Uh, welcome, guys," he says. "Was the trip good?"

"It was fantastic, thanks for asking," Cara responds, beaming at him. He smiles back at her and I clear my throat.

"Shut up, Will," Cara tells me without even looking. I chuckle and Caleb ushers us in.

"So, I haven't told my sister you guys were here, so just … uh … act cool, alright? Don't antagonize her too much. She's been in a bad mood ever since we left Chicago." He glances apologetically at me. "Sorry. I'm guessing you were there when she got all rude again?"

I nod. "Unfortunately, yes."

He shrugs. "Well, maybe you can become friends and lighten her up a little. She's hanging out with Susan in our shared room." He grimaces. "Yep. Our shared room."

"Don't worry, babe, tonight you'll be sleeping in an amazing bed at a hotel," Cara interrupts. We're sleeping at a hotel tonight and apparently Caleb's joining us, until we can get an apartment. I really hope Cara and Caleb aren't sleeping in the same bed. That'd just be _weird._

"Well, come on up, it's time to break the news to Tris," he says. "Let me talk to her first, and then you guys come on up. No stress, just remember. Whatever Tris feels, it can't change what we're doing."

Well, that's reassuring. Note the sarcasm.

He jogs up the stairs and knocks on Tris's door. I can hear faint murmurings, then Tris shouting. Finally, Cara sighs.

"I can't take this anymore, Will. Come on."

She walks up the stairs. I lag behind her, not really wanting to face Tris if she's really pissed. I hope she's not, but oh well.

Cara beckons to me to come faster, so I do. She enters, and finally I do.

Damn. Tris looks _hot._ Her long, golden-brown hair is in a loose side braid, and she's wearing casual black jeans and a blue crop top that shows her toned stomach. She's been exercising or something.

Tris seems equally stunned to see me, but we both manage to squeak out greetings to each other. Caleb starts talking about what places we can go out to dinner to, and I just chime in to say I don't have a problem with Italian. Then Tris starts throwing a tantrum that she wants Chinese-Japanese. I'm amazed at this new (yet beautiful) person who doesn't seem to give a crap about what others want.

Did Four really do this to her?

I zone out for a second until I hear something about a horse. Susan, Tris's best friend, is dragged along as they go see him. I feel slightly bad for her, but then shake it off **(shake it off, shake it off, ah ah!)** because I can text the gang in peace and quiet.

However, no such luck. Cara tells me – note, she doesn't _ask_ me like a normal person – to take a walk with her. Then she _asks_ Caleb to join, and he gladly agrees. I try to back out, but of course I can't, and so we go on a walk around the neighborhood.

There must be a reason Cara wants us to do this, and I'm right, because after a couple minutes she stops and turns to us.

"I need to discuss something with you two," she says. I groan.

"Make it quick, Cara, I want to text my friends back in Chicago."

She rolls her eyes. "So I was looking for apartments earlier today and I saw one that potentially looks like our best offer. It's pretty cheap. It has three bedrooms, which is pretty rare. It has a kitchen with a microwave, stove, and refrigerator. There's also a living room that has a TV. It's in a really nice part of town, and there's a couple nice restaurants and bookstores near it. I wanted you guys to come and check it out with me and see if we can really move there."

Caleb looks skeptical. "Cara, I'm not so sure I want to permanently move away from my family so soon."

She beams. "That's the best part! The place is only five minutes away, walking distance, so you can see your family pretty much whenever you want."

Slowly, Caleb begins to smile. "This sounds totally ideal then, Cara."

I shrug. "As long as it has a TV and I can have my own room, I'm good with it."

Cara pumps her fist. "Yes! So, should I set up an appointment to check it out this week?"

"No prob," I say at the same time as Caleb says, "Sounds great."

Cara hugs me quickly and then full-on kisses Caleb on the lips.

I stand there awkwardly as they engage with each other eagerly. Finally, I can't take it anymore, so I clear my throat.

Cara breaks apart immediately. She's flushed red and panting, but she has a ridiculous smile on her face.

"Sorry, Will," she says breathlessly. "Uh … I guess we should be getting back, then."

"Guess so," Caleb says very awkwardly. I just want to die right now, but that's not going to happen.

I wheel around and start speed-walking back. I hear them following me, but I'm too in my own world to pay attention.

Cara and Caleb are really into each other. Hell, Cara and I moved from Chicago to Maine so Cara could be with Caleb. Now he's moving to live with us.

Crap. Do they love each other?

I'm gonna have to ask Cara about that later.

Before I know it, I'm back at the house. Then I see something – or rather, some _one_ – who totally takes my breath away.

Tris is astride a beautiful horse. She carries no whip, no crop. She just holds the reins while the horse canters and does jumps with perfect ease.

Soon, Caleb and Cara catch up with me, and their mouths fall open in shock as well. Tris looks so in control, so beautiful and purely amazing.

Now I know one thing for sure.

I have developed a crush on Tris Prior.

 **Now, who saw that coming? Do you folks want some WillTris?**

 **Please review.**

 **Be brave.**


	38. Chapter 38

**Thank you so much for all the reviews. I'm now officially trying to update daily with around 1,000 words in each chapter. If something happens and I can't do that, I'll try to make sure to let you folks know.**

 **A lot of you said you didn't want WillTris, and remember, I take your reviews into account probably more than I take my opinions. So, I'm going to be putting up a poll on my profile. You'll be able to choose from four options: WillTris, LoganTris, FourTris, or single Tris. Any other opinions as to who Tris should date, please PM me and I will post it as another option in the poll. Please remember to go check that out on my profile so you can put your preference in as to who will be the lucky guy. Or if you don't want Tris to date anyone. That works too.**

 **Sorry for my long AN/rant, I just wanted to get that out. Anyway, onwards with Chapter 38!**

 **Will POV**

I don't know what to say when I see her again. Dammit. Does she even think I'm a nice guy? I mean, I broke up with Christina after two years of a loving relationship in a minute without a second thought. Does that make me a monster to her?

I run my fingers through my newly-cut hair for the thousandth time, pacing the yard outside her great-aunt's house.

Tris is a brat, a real brat. But she's fiery and beautiful, and she's amazing to those whom she likes. I can see why she appealed to Four.

But now it's my turn.

I get a few texts from the gang asking how Tris is doing. I reply with a simple "she's fine and we're settling in" because I don't want to include too much detail and make Four – or anyone else for that matter – feel bad.

Suddenly the front door opens, and my heart almost stops. If it's Tris … if it's her, I don't know what the hell I'll say.

But it's not – it's Caleb. He grins at me and jogs down the steps.

"So. Apartment with a TV and three bedrooms. Why aren't you psyched, man?"

I shrug. I've never really connected that much with Caleb – gasp.

"Something got you down?" he asks casually, in boy-talk. Uri used to talk that way to me.

"No, nothin' much," I respond, meeting his eyes. _Only the fact that I have a major crush on your sister and I have no idea to approach her,_ I think. Imagine if I said that to him! I chuckle a little, imagining his expression.

Suddenly his eyes light up. "I've got a hella good idea, Will."

Ten minutes later, Caleb is practically tossing me onto the back of his motorcycle. I'm protesting as hard as I can, but he's just laughing and making fun. I catch the name of the model as I'm thrown onto the bike. _Ducati Monster._ Yikes.

"Caleb, please. I really don't want to do this!" I plead.

He chuckles. "Believe me, Will, this is gonna be good. You're gonna be begging for another ride by the time we're done here."

"I truly doubt that," I groan.

"All right," he tells me, totally ignoring me. "Wrap your arms around my waist and hold on tight."

I hesitate. That's pretty weird. Do I have to put my arms around him?

He rolls his eyes. "You a coward?"

That galls me enough, and as soon as he's mounted, I squeeze him as hard as I can around his middle. He laughs a bit.

"Oh boy, we really need to work on your strength," he says as I grunt with the effort. "When you're done failing, lemme know so I can get this bad boy moving."

I roll my eyes back at him. "Fine. Let's go."

He revvs the engine, and we rocket off onto the road. I yell with a mix of exhilaration and terror. My now-short hair ruffles in the hard, strong wind.

Caleb is focused on driving it. I marvel at his concentration. I haven't known Caleb for a very long time, but I can easily tell that this is what he was made to do.

He tilts the Ducati Monster to one side, then another. Each time, I feel like we're going to crash into the solid asphalt, but each time he pulls out of the swerve with ease.

 _Almost like Tris on that horse,_ I think to myself, and immediately regret it, because now my mind is on Tris. I think of how much fat she's lost over the past month or so **(yes, I did a few time skips throughout the last couple chapters without telling you – ooh, I'm such a bad person ;) )** and I now can pretty much tell that it's from riding. I think of her fashionable clothes – those skinny black pants looked really good on her, and the blue crop top showed just enough skin to get any boy interested. I thought about how fiery she was, and how I would love to tame her, to work with her each day for her to become a better person. I actually want to live at her great-aunt's, so she can be the first thing I see in the morning and the last I see at night. I want her to dress up fancy for _me_ and only _me._ I want her to smile that beautiful smile and for me to be able to smile back at her, equally happy that we are with each other.

Wow. I'm in deep.

I'm so lost in thought that I don't realize that we've actually turned around and we're now back at the house. Caleb's grinning as he gets off the motorcycle, apparently unaware I had totally drifted off.

"So? Was I right? Did you love it or what?"

I shrug, surprised. "It was actually pretty cool. Thanks."

"Anytime, man," he tells me. "By the way, I hope it's OK that I'm dating your sister. I really don't want it to be weird or anything."

"Well, there's nothing _not_ weird about Cara's and your relationship, considering she's my sister, of course, but honestly? If you make Cara happy, then I'm good with that."

He grins even wider. "Glad we've cleared that up then. I really didn't want things to be awkward once we're all under the same roof."

I nod understandingly. "Gotcha."

Suddenly he leans forward and whispers in my ear conspiratorially, "There's this new guy here. I think his name is Logan. He's … how do I put this … hot. He also doesn't look like good news. If you wouldn't mind, would you do me a huge favor and just keep him away from Tris? I don't want her falling for him."

"I've gotcha covered, Caleb. No need to worry," I assure him, not sure what to think about this apparently hot kid moving in on my girl.

Wait. _My girl?_ Damn, I'm going too fast. For the first time, slivers of doubt begin to creep into my mind.

What if she doesn't want to be with me? What if I'm not good enough for her? What if she'd rather have Logan than me?

 _Shut up, Will,_ I tell myself.

Caleb seems satisfied, and he starts to head back in. Then he turns to me. "Hey, come on in. I think Tris is done with Fleet, maybe you two can chat."

How the hell did he know? I'm shocked for a second, then realize that he wants me to try and make Tris become a better person.

Well, that's a close second.

I start to get – what do girls call it? – oh! Butterflies. I start to get _butterflies_ in my stomach at the thought of seeing Tris. I feel a flicker of worry. _If_ this works out, _if_ Tris actually likes me and … and we possibly begin a relationship, I can only imagine what Christina and the rest of the gang back in Chicago will think.

 _Damn you, Will. You're getting too ahead of yourself,_ I snap in my mind.

I realize I've been standing there for quite some time. Quickly recovering, I mumble an apology and rush past a stunned Caleb.

I race up the stairs and knock on Tris's door. **(no one's really told him that she shares a room with her whole family, and now Susan and Robert for a couple nights … so yeah *evil wink*)**

Tris's beautiful voice floats through the door almost effortlessly. "Come in."

I close my hand over the door handle, realizing that my palms are sweaty and I'm shaking slightly. I wipe my hands on my jeans and take a couple deep breaths. Once I feel that I'm calm enough, I open the door and walk in.

 **Yikes. So, currently Will has a massive crush on Tris, but of course, that could always change.**

 **What do you folks think will happen? Make sure to leave a review with predictions, praise, a random comment, or CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.**

 **Be brave.**


	39. Chapter 39

**This chapter was so hard to write. Ugh. I am really sorry I didn't update yesterday, but I have important news. I've set up a poll on my profile page. By clicking on one of the choices, you could change the rest of the story. The poll is to decide which guy Tris should date. The choices are: Will, Logan, Four, and for Tris to be single. If you have any other preferences, please PM me about the character and I will put it on the poll. Thanks! (after Tris gets this boyfriend, I will end the story). Onwards with Chapter 39!**

 **Will POV**

Tris is getting her fingers manicured by Susan. A beautiful dark shade of blue. She glances up at me.

"Oh, hey," she says casually. "What's new?"

"Um …" I suddenly realize I have no freakin' idea what to say to her.

She smiles a bit. "Come to get your nails done?"

I roll my eyes. "As if."

She chuckles, and all of a sudden I feel OK again, and I know what to say.

"So, I was wondering if maybe you'd teach me how to ride Fleet," I tell her. "Like, definitely not as much as _you_ know, but maybe the basics."

"I'd have to ask my great-aunt," she responds, blowing on her nails. "But sure."

"OK, great."

"See ya," she says, which is clearly a way of saying 'get out of here.' I go out.

Caleb's waiting expectantly. "So?" he says in a stage whisper. "What'd you say?"

"I want her to teach me how to ride Fleet. I can work with her more often then."

He shrugs. "As long as I can get my sister back."

I grin. "Looks like you will, Caleb."

I walk downstairs with him following me.

 **Tris POV**

There's a knock on the door. I yell "come in!" and the door opens.

I was _not_ expecting Will. My breath catches. Damn, he's _so_ hot. His cut hair framing his face, his beautiful brown eyes looking at me, his jaw shaped and muscles bulging under his tight-fitting shirt.

I think of something to say, and go with the most casual. "Oh, hey. What's new?"

"Um …"

He's adorable right now, so I decide to crack a little joke. "Come to get your nails done?"

"As if," he scoffs playfully, and I force a chuckle. That wasn't very funny, but Will should be appeased in all ways.

"So, I was wondering if maybe you'd teach me how to ride Fleet," he tells me suddenly. "Like, definitely not as much as _you_ know, but maybe the basics."

"I'd have to ask my great-aunt," I respond, slightly surprised he wants to learn how to ride. I blow on my nails delicately. "But sure."

"OK, great."

"See ya," I tell him. As hot as he looks right now, _I_ am more important, and my nails come in close second.

He leaves and I turn to Susan.

"OMG. He likes you, Tris," Susan says, wide-eyed.

"No way," I tell her, desperately hoping I'm wrong.

"Did you see the way he stuttered after he saw you? That was gold, darling." She pauses for a second. "Do you like him?"

I shrug. "Little bit, maybe."

She grins. "It's fate, Tris! You know what they say, 'a perfect match makes a good heart, a good heart makes an excellent life, and an excellent life is the most fulfilling thing on the planet.'"

I roll my eyes. "No one says that, Susan."

"My mom does," she responds defensively.

"All right, all right, no need to snap at me," I say coolly. "Keep doing my nails."

 **Christina POV**

"Why the hell is Will ignoring us?" Zeke snaps. I bet this is really hard for him.

"Something might have come up. He texted us when he arrived," Shauna reassures him, rubbing his back gently.

"Nothing since!"

"Should we text Caleb?" Marlene suggests. Once again, she's been crying. She really misses Tris and now Will.

 _I_ should be the one snapping at Shauna. _I_ am wondering where Will went and why he hasn't been responding to any of our texts.

"I have an idea," Lynn announces, and we all look at her like she's crazy. _She_ had an idea? Out of all the people here, it was Lynn?

It's probably a pathetic idea, so I just roll my eyes.

She rolls her eyes back at me. "What if we get in touch with Caleb or Cara and ask what the hell is going on with Will?"

I gape at her. "That … that's brilliant, Lynn. How did that happen? You're _Lynn._ Nothing is brilliant in your mind."

She scoffs. "Thanks, Christina."

"Alright, I want everybody to cool down," Four says in that deep, intimidating voice. "Take deep breaths."

No one does.

"You're not a freakin' psychologist, Four," Uri snaps, which is really unlike him.

"Clearly you people are not capable of calming yourselves down, so no, I do have to take on that role, Uriah."

"Just leave us alone, alright? This is all your fault!"

In a smooth, fluid motion, Four is standing and towering over Uriah in his seat. " _My_ fault?" His voice is a deadly whisper. " _My_ fault? How is this _my_ fault, Uriah Pedrad? Your older brother was the one who dared me, and it was your responsibility to tell him to stop."

"My responsibility? Are you kidding me? Even if that was 'my responsibility,' since when does Zeke even listen to me?"

"True," Zeke says casually, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

Four glares at him. "Not helping."

He shrugs. "That's my job. To not help."

Four decides to ignore him and turns back to Uri. "Please don't insult my intelligence, Uriah."

"Then don't insult mine," he responds sharply.

"Really? Well, I shouldn't have a problem with that since there's no intelligence to begin with," Four tells him smartly, and Zeke yells, " _Get wrecked!_ " which is his favorite sentence ever.

"Shut up, Zeke." I cross the room and smack him. He groans in pain.

"What'd you do that for?" he moans.

"Because you're annoying." I sit on the floor, put my head in my hands, and sigh.

What the _hell_ is up with Will?

 **Sorry, this wasn't a very good chapter and it was really hard to write. Please remember to vote on the poll on my profile – it's really important to me.**

 **Please review!**

 **Be brave.**


	40. Chapter 40

**Hi folks, it's time for another chapter. Thanks for the 6 reviews I got for Chapters 38 and 39. They really mean a lot to me. Don't worry, I'm not going all sentimental on you ;)**

 **So I wanted to discuss the poll on Tris's boyfriend. I've gotten three opinions so far. I'd love to hear some more! The poll will be closing the day after tomorrow, so make sure to vote before it does.**

 **Also, I wasn't sure if you were all aware of this, but after Tris decides on her boyfriend (or to be single, of course), there will probably be one more chapter when everyone talks to each other and stuff turns out as well as it can … and then Who Am I? will finally end. I probably told you this in either Chapters 38 or 39, but I'm too lazy to go back and check. Anyway, please don't be too upset that Who Am I? is ending. I don't want it to drag on for more than it has to, and it's getting kind of boring to me. I** ** _am,_** **however, starting a new story called The Life of Becca Griffin. It's about a girl who makes a huge mistake in Candor and her parents pretty much disown her, and she realizes that real parents shouldn't act that way and decides to transfer factions to Erudite but makes yet** ** _another_** **massive, life-changing mistake … but anyway. Don't want to spoil too much.**

 **Sorry for the long A/N, just wanted to clear some things up that I probably did last chapter. But that's just who I am. A doofus. ;)**

 **Onwards with Chapter 40!**

 **Christina POV:**

I've been waiting for this moment. This peaceful, pure moment when I can stop bottling up all my emotions to try and make everyone else feel better.

Everyone's gone. I lock my bedroom door and slowly release each and every emotion I've felt since that stupid, pathetic dare in the frickin' damn woods.

I bury my face in my pillow as I begin to cry. Sorry. _Cry_ is a total understatement. More like a humongous bawl, choking on my sobs and snot **(sorry it's gross, folks, but it's reality)**. My chest begins to hurt after thirty minutes of pouring out my feelings.

My brain splitting about whether I should tell Tris we dared her to do something without telling her we were playing.

Tris leaving and going to Maine without even telling us.

My mom refusing to help me get her back.

The gang, poor and dejected.

Me trying to cheer everyone up, because I have to.

The FaceTime with Tris.

Will deciding to move to Maine.

Will and my fight.

Then our breakup.

At those words, I start to sob even harder. Why the frickin' _hell_ did I let him go like that? What the hell was wrong with me? We dated for _two frickin' years_ and then we just split up like snap!

Is it Will, or is it me? Who's at fault here?

Oh hell, I miss Will. He had just gotten his hair cut. I was the one who convinced him to do it. He'd moaned and complained for hours and hours before it, and as soon as it was done he had declared he'd loved it.

I know _everything_ about him. His favorite color. His favorite food. When I make corny jokes, he loves it. I know how he's picky about things, and how his old babysitter once ditched him at a park when he was five years old and she got sued.

 _I_ deserve to be with him. Not anyone else.

Wait. What? _Anyone else?_ He wouldn't date so soon after our breakup … would he?

Oh dammit.

Tris.

What if … what if they began to like each other? After all, they'd see each other every day. She'd learn what I learned about Will.

Will and Tris. Tris and Will. Not as good as Will and Christina.

Almost as soon as I have the thought, I laugh a little. Tris is now officially a spoiled brat. Like she'd _ever_ fall for a guy like Will. **(FYI, Will looks exactly the same as he does in the movie, because I love that actor – whatever his name is. Again … too lazy to check. Sorry. But that actor is totally hot, so … yeah. He's my favorite character in Divergent the movie. Sorry for the A/N interruption. Yeah, I'll shut up now. Bye.)**

My phone buzzes. Tears are still gushing down. I use a tissue to wipe most of them away and check my text.

My heart leaps. Possibly in a good way, possibly not.

It's from Tris.

 **Tris:** _hey._

 **Christina:** _sup?_

 **Tris:** _just wanted to talk_

 **Christina:** _about …_

 **Tris:** _this new guy. he just moved here with susan. he's totes hot and i hv no idea wht i should do._

 **Christina:** _it's not will, right?_

 **Tris:** _ew, gross! i said he moved with susan._

 **Christina:** _gotcha._

 **Tris:** _should i make 1_ _st_ _move or should i wait?_

 **Christina:** _y rn't u talking to ur bestie susan?_

 **Tris:** _it's her brother Robert_

 **Christina:** _so ur only talking to me bc u cnt talk to susan bc ur crushing on her bro_

 **Tris:** _ur not my bff anymore. u and i are pretty much over. can u plz get over it?_

 **Christina:** _i dnt wnt 2 help u._

 **Tris:** _whats w/ the bratty attitude?_

 **Christina:** _are you fricking kidding me right now? shut the hell up and dnt talk to me. im surprised u hv the fricking nerve. bye._

 **Tris:** _u know what, ur right. i shouldn't hv come to u for advice. to think, this is how u treat me._

I suddenly feel a strange urge to list what bratty, snotty, and spoiled things she's done, but resist it, just satisfying myself by blocking her phone number and slamming my phone on the floor.

Whoo-hoo for protective phone cases.

 **Tris POV**

I type the final word of my cutting text to Christina, grinning satisfactorily as I do so. She was so rude to me, so bratty. I can't believe this is the new Christina. Suddenly I get an alert on my phone that I am now officially blocked from texting/calling Christina.

Well that's just frickin' great.

Susan is in the bathroom. I can't believe I just lied about crushing on Robert to Christina. It's kind of ridiculous actually. It's not that I care what Christina thinks if she finds out I'm crushing on Will. I'm just trying to find out if my feelings for him are concrete yet.

"Dinner time," Caleb calls from the bottom of the stairs.

As I said before, just frickin' great.

 **Remember, please vote on the poll.**

 **And review.**

 **Be brave.**


	41. Chapter 41

**Hey, folks. Thanks for the reviews. As always, it means a lot. Also, special shout-out to dauntless4664 for his/her continuous support of this story. I'm pretty sure you've been here since almost day one. It feels like it, that's for sure.**

 **Remember to vote on the poll.**

 **Cara POV**

I place my arm across Caleb's shoulders delicately. He is slim yet muscular, with hints of a slight beard along his chin, a permanent smile stretched on his face. I can't believe how lucky I was to end up with a guy like him.

We are heading out for dinner. After Tris threw that mini-fit, Caleb decided we were going to go to Chinese-Japanese.

It feels wrong somehow, but I desperately hate Tris. I hate how she tried to prevent the relationship with Caleb and I. I hate how she gets everything her way. And I love Caleb for putting up with her spoiled attitude and idiocy.

Caleb whispers sweet nothings in my ear. I smile.

It's slightly chilly out. Caleb decides to go all old-fashioned and unzips his hoodie. He then wraps it around my bare shoulders.

"You don't have to do that, love," I murmur. He gently presses a glorious kiss to my lips.

"I want to, love," he whispers back.

"Love" is our pet nickname for each other. It is just intimate enough to give me warm shivers whenever he says it. I love a boy, and he loves me.

I zip up the hoodie, smiling once more.

Will jogs in front of us, catching up with Tris's fast stride. He calls to try and get her attention, but it is a lost cause.

"Your sister …" I ask gently. "Do you truly love her?"

His head whips around to face me. "She is my sister, love. I _must_ love her."

"If she weren't …" I am scared that he'll get mad at me, but I press on. "And this was your first impression of her …" I sweep my hand up and down at Tris ignoring everyone and everything as Will calls for her desperately. "Would you like her?"

His head drops in shame. "It's hard, Cara. It's really hard."

"Oh love, I know," I soothe him. He silently cries. I rub his back and kiss him gently. "You have to understand that you are a wonderful, handsome, brilliant young man and in _no way_ will I ever let your sister deter that. You are Caleb Brandon Prior, and I love you."

"I love you too," he responds, and looks at me with pure adoration. I love it when he looks at me like that.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he murmurs.

"If I didn't have you, I would crumble," I tell him honestly.

He smiles. "If I didn't have you, my life would have a big dark hole in it that no one could fill – except for you."

He whispers sweet nothings to me once more, only stopping so we can kiss slowly, relishing each moment.

"Are you guys just gonna make out or are we actually going to do something useful, like getting to the restaurant?" a snide voice comes from in front. I break apart hastily. Sure enough, Tris stands there.

I look at Caleb meaningfully. He sighs and takes a step forward.

"Tris, I really don't appreciate it when you do that," he tells her slowly.

She scoffs. "Go to hell."

Before I know it, I am launching a punch into her jaw. She stumbles, almost falling, but I advance in a lightning-quick series of powerful strikes fueled by my rage. She cries in pain and crumples to the asphalt, curling up in a ball to try and protect herself.

I'll have none of that. I force her head from her hands and deliver a satisfying blow to her nose.

I want to deliver more punches, more kicks, cause her more pain for saying that to her own brother. Tris is an unbelievably mean kid, and she snapped at my love.

But before I can make her suffer even more, I feel Caleb's undeniably strong arms yanking me away from Tris, and I am dragged away. I don't resist. I fit perfectly in his arms and I enjoy that feeling, letting it sink into me instead of hate for his sister.

He lets me go as soon as we're pretty far from her. "What the hell was that?" he asks sharply, jabbing a hand at the direction we came from.

"She insulted you," I answer simply.

"She's insulted me since she learned how to talk! You can't overreact to it!"

" _Overreact?_ Caleb, my precious love, you don't deserve this hate from your own blood. _No one_ deserves it. She needs to learn common sense."

His voice softens. "Darling love, she is far past learning this."

"Didn't she change?" My voice is sad now. "I thought she became a better person. What happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Someone did a dare that really offended her or something and we moved out here."

My eyes widen. "A _dare._ You left your life because of a _dare._ You're kidding!"

"This is my life," he responds. "We do what Tris wants."

" _Why,_ though? Why do you and your parents listen to whatever she wants?"

Caleb looks beyond terrified at this point, but finally he leans in and whispers three words that literally make me fall to the ground.

 **Christina POV**

"Christina?"

I dry my tears hastily. "Come in, Mom."

My mom enters the room with her usual elegance and blah blah blah. She looks at me concernedly. "You've been down lately, sweetie."

I shrug. "Just going through a rough patch since Tris and Will left."

"Honey, I'm so sorry about Will. I know how much he meant to you."

"Mom, I loved him," I whisper. "And he just left me."

"He didn't deserve you," she responds immediately. "No guy like that deserves you. You are a beautiful," she crosses the room and places a hand on my forehead, "brave," she strokes my hair, "brilliant," she cups my cheek gently, "intelligent," she places both hands on my shoulder, " _magnificent_ young woman." Then she pulls me into a tight hug, and I hug her back, so glad to have my mom there supporting me.

I smile weakly, trying to prevent yet another tear from slipping down my cheek – and failing.

"Mom … can I have Assistant Designer Position back?" I ask. I need some of Mom's work to occupy my mind right now.

She nods decidedly. "Absolutely."

I grin. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too."

 **So, what words do you think Caleb whispered to Cara? That's a pretty big cliffhanger, huh?**

 **Go Cara for beating Tris up! She totally deserved it, don't you think?**

 **You folks are lucky I'm posting twice today. I just had a little extra time.**

 **Anyway, please review!**

 **Be brave.**


	42. Chapter 42

**Sorry for not updating, I was on vaca and didn't have access to a computer.**

 **Next chapter is the LAST CHAPTER of Who Am I?! It's been amazing, really, folks, and I'm thanking you all for the reviews, the follows, the favorites, and the views and visitors. Really, people. It means a lot.**

 **Onwards to Chapter 42!**

 **Christina POV**

I'm dressed in a Carrie Kravitz sleeveless, glittery dress. My hair is curled and my makeup has been done by professionals. Mom smiles nervously at me.

She opens the door to her office and ushers me in.

Three women and a man sit there discussing something quietly. On a whiteboard is a beautiful, artistically drawn picture of a women's shirt. The desk is covered with fabric samples and a lipstick tube lies carelessly on the floor.

"Christina," one of the women greets me. I recognize her as Cassandra, the head makeup artist. Melody, our top designer for men's clothes, greets me as well. Max, who is the head of the hair department, nods to me. Opal, my mom's personal assistant, doesn't even acknowledge me.

"Hello, Cassandra, Melody, Opal, and Max," I respond. "I'm here to reclaim my position as Assistant Designer."

Opal raises her eyebrows. "Are you fully qualified for that, Miss Kravitz?"

"Christina will do just fine, thank you," I tell her. "And yes, I am fully qualified."

She brushed her long sheet of silvery-blond hair behind her. "You do realize that I currently hold that position?"

"Yes, I am aware of it."

She sighs and rolls her eyes slightly.

My mom frowns. "Opal, please be respectful to my daughter."

She smiles slightly. "Right. Sorry, Ms. Kravitz."

"We need to discuss the failure of my Lip Glory lipstick," Mom begins. "Ever since Cassandra's department came out with it, it's been doing dismally. Christina, care to elaborate?"

I pick up the stick that had fallen on the floor. "Apparently, this new development does _not_ stay on and washes off easily. It is very flimsy and the tube size is much too big. The outer coat of paint chips within a week." I pause and turn to Cassandra. "Thoughts on how to improve?"

She smiles. "Way ahead of you." She pulls out a smaller, sleeker, and golden lipstick tube with the words _Carrie Kravitz Lip Glory_ written in fancy cursive on it. "This is my department's new upgrade. All of the issues you just mentioned have been addressed promptly and this is the best modification we could come up with on such short notice – three weeks."

I grin. "Excellent work, Cassandra."

She shrugs modestly, long golden curls swaying.

"Max," I say, turning to him. "Gel Glory has, on the other hand, been doing phenomenally. Congrats on that."

He smiles slightly. "Glad to hear it, Christina."

I turn to Melody next. "I've heard your new jeans are pretty spectacular, but this isn't really the business for men's clothes. See me after this meeting and we can discuss your other options."

She sighs and addresses my mom instead of me. "Ms. Kravitz, I have told you several times that Johnny in marketing has not been doing sufficient advertising for the men's department. That's why my department is failing. Please tell him to shape up his work."

My mom nods. "I'll remember that."

Finally, I turn to Opal, slightly offended that my mom didn't tell Melody to address _me_.

"Opal, you've been getting my mom's paperwork done, etc., pretty well. However, since you've been taking care of Assistant Designer Position, your work has been flawed in most places. See me after this meeting."

She scowls. "Christina, I don't have to listen to you. You're not in a higher position than me."

I'm sure my mom will defend me now, but once more she doesn't come through – just stays silent.

"That should be it," I tell them. "If the new Lip Glory lipstick succeeds, expect a pay raise, Cassandra."

She nods, smiling.

 **Cara POV**

"You're joking," I tell Caleb. We're hanging out at his place. Tris and Susan are out riding Flash.

"No, I'm not," he says in all seriousness. "I'm really not."

"But – adopted? Are you positive? She really looks like you, my love."

He nods slowly, and my eyes narrow.

"Wait a minute."

He sighs.

I continue. "Are you lying to me, Caleb Brandon Prior?"

He shakes his head guiltily. "No."

"Oh really?" I raise my eyebrows. "You're not?"

After a few seconds, his shoulders slouch in defeat. "Yeah, alright. I was lying. Tris wasn't really adopted. I just … I can't have you criticizing my sister. I love her no matter what."

My eyes soften. "Caleb, my love, you don't have to lie to me. I'll stand by you."

He smiles slowly. "Thank you, Cara."

"My brave, brave boyfriend," I murmur, bending down to kiss him gently. "I love you."

"I love you too," he responds dreamily.

 **Tris POV**

Susan chickens out as soon as she sees Flash again, which personally I think is very lame, so of course I mention it as we go into the house early. I decide to go up to the family's shared room and crash my brother's secret party with his pathetic girlfriend.

I'm about to barge in when I hear quiet voices and make my mind up to eavesdrop.

"-looks like you, my love," Cara is saying softly. She pauses, and then says, "Wait a minute."

I hear a sigh from Caleb.

"Are you lying to me, Caleb Brandon Prior?" I hear her accuse him.

"No," he responds quickly.

"Oh, really?" Cara's voice is reprimanding and stern. "You're not?"

"Yeah, alright. I was lying. Tris wasn't really adopted. I just … I can't have you criticizing my sister. I love her no matter what."

I freeze.

"Caleb, my love, you don't have to lie to me. I'll stand by you."

"Thank you, Cara."

"My brave, brave boyfriend," she murmurs. "I love you."

"I love you too," he says.

My legs feel like jelly. I remember those fun times with Christina, see what I've done through third person.

Well crap. I just ruined my life.

 _Caleb loves me no matter what._ The words echo throughout my head. _Caleb loves me no matter what._

Hell, I've been a spoiled brat.

Damn, I've bullied my best friend and my brother.

Crap. _Four._

 **Yikes. What do you think is going to happen in the last chapter?**

 **Please review!**

 **Be brave.**


	43. Chapter 43

**All right, people, this is it. The last chapter of this story. As I said in last chapter, it's really been amazing and your continuous support means a lot.**

 **I'm going to be publishing a new story soon called The Life of Becca Griffin. It takes place in the actual Divergent world, not in modern-day high school. Basically it's a no-war story and she is an Candor-born initiate who transfers - whether it is her choice or not - to Dauntless.**

 **Anyway, don't want to spoil too much. So please, enjoy this last chapter and stay tuned for more stories!**

 **Onwards to Chapter 43, the final chapter!**

I yank my phone out. Susan keeps bugging me, asking me if I'm OK, and I snap at her, which I immediately regret. She grimaces.

"I should probably get going home with Robert," she tells me coldly. "I'll see you around, Tris."

"Catch you later, sistah," I say uneasily.

She turns and runs down the stairs.

I sigh and text my old gang.

 **Tris:** _hey, sup?_

 **Four:** _what the hell_

 **Tris:** _yo chris, u there?_

 **Christina:** _yeah, wht do u wnt_

 **Tris:** _to apologize. i've been an idiot_

 **Christina:** _we're not gonna forgive u that easily. u rly ruined the whole gang_

 **Tris:** _i know, and i just realized that. i'm coming back to Chicago._

 **Christina:** _no ur not. ur not welcome here anymore_

 **Tris:** _ur joking, right?_

 **Christina:** _not a bit_

 **Tris:** _come on, plz. ur friend is back._

 **Zeke:** _chris's right, tris. We're sick and tired of doing what you want. Stay in maine w ur bestie susan and we'll stay in Chicago and actually live a happy life._

 **Shauna:** _tris, u totally overreacted to a dare and I don't want to play games like that anymore with u if ur gonna ruin it._

 **Tris:** _plz guys. I messed up and I want to fix it_

 **Marlene:** _it's too late now_

 **Tris:** _so this is it then?_

 **Christina:** _yeah. See ya._

 **Tris:** _ur gonna regret this_

 **Christina:** _and mad tris is back. Just go back to stealing my frickin' boyfriend and riding your frickin' damn horse._

 **Tris:** _what the hell r u talking about?_

 **Christina:** _will likes u and u like him._

 **Tris:** _how did u know about flash_

 **Christina:** _will texts us everything_

 **Tris:** _traitor_

 **Christina:** _selfish spoiled brat_

 **Tris:** _arrogant prick_

 **Christina:** _im not doing this anymore. Bye_

 **Tris:** _I can't believe what ur doing, but whatever. I was better off w/out u guys anyway_

I shove my phone into my pocket and feel tears start to form at the corners of my eyes.

 **Four POV**

I read the gang's heartless texts and see some of Tris's personality in them. Her fire, her liveliness.

I still crush on her, I really do. I can't believe the gang turned her down, so there's only one thing I can do.

 **Tris POV**

"Tris, you have a visitor!" My mom calls. I sigh and flop down on my bed.

I figure it's Susan, so I groan and call back, "I'm not gonna talk to anyone right now, Mom!"

"It's a boy!" she calls, and I shoot upright.

It must be Logan or Will. I'm equally excited. Both guys are really hot, really nice, and amazing boys in general.

I hop off my bed and run down the narrow stairs, and freeze when I see who it is.

"Hello, Tris," Tobias says from the bottom of the steps.

 **Epilogue, Tris POV**

"Do you, Beatrice Grace Prior, take Tobias Stanley Eaton, to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish all the days of your life?"

I nod slowly, gazing at Tobias with wide, adoring eyes.

"I do," I murmur.

"Do you, Tobias Stanley Eaton, take Beatrice Grace Prior, to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish all the days of your life?"

"I do," he says without emotion.

"Then, Tobias, you may kiss the bride."

He takes my face and lovingly, he presses his lips to mine in great emotion and with great feeling.

I feel adrenaline rush through me and I wrap my hands around his neck, deepening the kiss. He takes his hands, wraps them around my waist, and lifts me up.

I hear catcalls and wolf whistles from my friends in the chairs. I never really made up with Christina (who now runs the Kravitz Fashion Departments) or Zeke (who's a college football coach), but I made up with Shauna, Marlene, Lynn, Will, Uriah, and I'm even friends with Logan still, even though he's married to Susan.

Cara and Caleb are now married – they got married directly after college, unlike Tobias and I, who are now twenty-seven each. Marlene married Uriah and they already have a one-year-old baby boy named Henry, after Marlene's father.

I break apart from the kiss and gaze at my friends, who've stuck by me for high school, college, and even after that.

Later that night, we have a party, and I raise my glass of wine. "To friends!" I shout.

"To friends!" I hear the echo of everyone repeating it, then glasses clinking.

 _To friends._

 **The End**

 **I'll see you folks later. I'm not forgetting all this support, so I'd like to give two shoutouts to the people on fanfiction who really inspired me.**

 **dauntless4664**

 **ItsHardIKnow**

 **Really, you two, you carried me through these 43 chapters and I don't know how to thank you enough for pushing me up when I fell down and still supporting me when I disappeared for two months to deal with life.**

 **So, onwards to The Life of Becca Griffin!**

 **Be brave.**

 **I do not own Divergent. All credits go to Veronica Roth.**

 **ItsHardIKnow**


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